il  A 


It 


PRINCETON,  N  J. 

No.  Case,   Div 
No.  Shelf, 


No.  Book, 


-SeG4K)-ftJB-^ 


The- John  M.  Iircl>s  Donatioii. 


V,  2- 


DOCTRINAL    SERMONS. 


SERMONS 


OP 


REV.  ICHABOD  S.  SPENCER,  D.D. 

LATE   PASTOR  OF  THE  SECOND  PRESBYTERIAN  CIIXJECn,   BROOKLYN.  L.  I, 


AUTHOR  OF  "A   PASTOR'S   SKETCHES." 


A     SKETCH     OF     HIS     LIFE, 

By    EEV.  J.   M.   SHERWOOD. 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES. 
VOL.    II. 


NEW     YORK: 
PUBLISHED    BY    M.    W.    DODD 

Corner  of  Spruce  St.  and  City  Hall  Square 

1855. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congrress,  in  the  year  1855,  by 

HANNAH    SPENCER, 

a  Clerk>3  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern  District  of 
New  York. 


TnOMAS   E    SMITH,  BILLIN  AND  EUOTHER, 

STEREOTYPER  AND  ELECTROTYPER,  PRINTERS, 

82  &  84  Reekman  St.,  N.  Y.  20  North  William  St. 


CONTENTS. 


•  •  •- 


I. 

PAGE 

The  Light  of  Naturjj 1 

II. 
Vanity  of  the  "World's  "Wisdom 29 

III. 
The  Truth  held  in  Unrighteousness 59 

IV. 
The  Magnificence  of  God 83 

V. 
The  Divine  Character  Pre-eminent 99 

On  Knowing  God 120 

VII. 
"Wisdom  of  God  in  Mystery 136 

VIII. 
P^lection 154 

IX. 
Atonement 1'73 

X. 

Mystery  Appropriate  in  Redemption 192 

XI. 

Legal  and  Evangelical  Justification  Distinguished 211 


VI  CONTENTS. 

XII. 

PAGE 

Vanity  of  Man  if  not  Immortal 229 

XIII. 
The  Mercy  of  God 249 

XIV. 
The  Mercy  of  God,  continued 266 

XV. 

God  no  Pleasure  in  the  Death  of  Sinners 285 

'  XVI. 

God  no  Pleasure  in  the  Death  of  Sinners,  continued 305 

XVII 

God  no  Pleasure  in  the  Death  of  Sinners,  continued 325 

XVIII. 
Help  in  God  for  Sinners 345 

XIX. 
Forgiveness 360 

XX. 

The  Depths  of  Salvation 315 

XXI. 
Sketch  of  the  Plan  of  Salvation 391 

XXII. 
Christ  Stricken 412 

XXIII. 
Christ  Delivered  up 432 

XXIV. 
Rejoicing  of  Faith, 449 

XXV. 

The  Lamb  Slain  Worshiped  ln  Heaven 464 


THHOLOGIOlL J 


The  Law  of  the  Lord  is  perfect,  converting  the  soul.— Psalm    xrx.  7. 

npHERE  is  sometHng  not  a  little  remarkable  in  the 
-*-  manner  in  whicli  this  expression  is  introduced  bj 
the  inspired  author.  He  had  been  up  on  the  mount  of 
contemplation.  Standing  on  its  loftiness,  his  mind  felt 
the  grandeur  of  the  things  around  him.  He  was  wrapped 
in  the  study  of  the  stupendous  works  of  God ;  and  on 
that  lofty  eminence,  where  every  breath  must  be  poetry, 
he  breathes  forth  a  strain  of  sublimities  and  beauties, 
like  one  of  the  fondest  admirers  of  the  works  of  nature. 
The  very  first  thought  is  poetry ;  it  is  the  genius  rush 
of  a  lofty  imagination.  Hear  him :  The  heavens  declare 
the  glory  of  God,  and  the  firmament  showeth  his  handy  work. 
His  mind  took  in  the  compass  of  the  heavens.  It  roved 
among  the  worlds  of  light  hung  out  on  the  firmament 
above  him.  These  worlds,  their  order,  beauty,  and 
movement,  were  instructive.  They  told  him  something : 
day  unto  day  uttereth  speech,  and  night  unto  night  showeth 
knowledge.  They  told  every  body.  These  heavens,  these 
illuminated  worlds  above  us,  suns  and  stars,  carry  their 
tuition  to  every  child  of  mortality :  there  is  no  speech  nor 
language  where  their  voice  is  not  heard.  Their  line  (of  in- 
struction, their  lucid  lesson)  is  gone  out  through  all  the  earthy 


8  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

and  their  words  to  the  end  of  the  world.  Yes,  for  in  them 
hath  he  set  a  tabernacle  for  the  sun^  which  is  as  a  bridegroom 
coming  out  of  his  chamber,  and  rejoiceth  as  a  strong  man  to 
run  a  race.  His  going  forth  is  from  the  end  of  heaven,  and 
his  circuit  unto  the  ends  of  it,  and  there  is  nothing  hid  from 
the  heat  thereof  Thus  he  talks  about  the  heavens.  He 
is  moved  bj  their  sublimity ;  and  commends  their  in- 
struction in  a  style  of  impassioned  ardor,  which  that 
Deism,  that  so  much  extols  the  light  of  nature,  can  very 
well  afford  to  admire. 

But  he  was  no  Deist.  After  all  this  poetry  about 
nature,  the  heavens,  the  tabernacle  of  the  sun,  he  knew 
what  it  was  all  good  for,  and  knew  where  its  utility 
stopped.  He  comes  back  from  this  venturesome  flight 
to  read  a  lesson  in  another  place :  The  LAW  of  the 
Lord  is  perfect,  converting  the  soul.  It  was  not  in  the 
material  heavens,  with  all  their  grandeur,  that  he  found 
the  lesson  of  perfection.  He  turned  from  them  to  the 
Law  of  the  Lord,  and  there  he  found  it.  This  LAW  is 
perfect :  it  converts  the  soul.  This  is  the  remarkable  con- 
nection and  instructive  sense  of  the  text. 

History  furnishes  us  with  many  remarkable  confirma- 
tions of  its  accuracy.  Among  all  that  poetic  excursive- 
ness,  which  has  delighted  to  roam  over  the  ""  works  of 
Nature"  (as  they  are  called) ;  and  all  that  sedate  philos- 
ophizing, which  has  often  boasted  of  its  pure  reason- 
ableness and  its  practical  utility,  there  have  been  no  well- 
attested  instances  of  a  regenerated  spirit  in  the  poet  or 
the  philosopher,  coming  from  the  influences  of  the  mere 
book  of  Nature.  Poetry  could  sing  in  life  and  health  ; 
but  her  voice  faltered  and  her  lip  quivered  in  death! 
Philosophy  could  speculate,  and  then  expire  in  despair  I 
Human  nature  never  took  a  promise  from  even  the  taber- 


THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE.  9 

nacle  of  the  sun,  that  would  do  any  good  to  a  dying  man. 
The  damps  of  the  sepulcher  put  out  its  light;  neither 
poetry  nor  philosophy  can  make  it  burn  and  shed  light 
on  that  dark  pathway  by  which  a  mortal  travels  to  an- 
other world. 

The  truth  is,  these  "  works  of  Nature"  were  not 
made  to  last:  they  shall  be  burnt  up ;  and  a  reasonable 
man  ought  not,  therefore,  to  expect  them  to  teach  him 
lessons  for  his  immortality.  They  may  furnish  him  use- 
ful hints  while  here ;  but  they  never  put  into  his  hand 
or  his  heart  a  promise  to  carry  out  of  the  world  with 
him.  They  may  aid  his  piety,  too,  if  he  has  gone  to 
the  foundation  of  the  Prophets  and  Apostles,  and,  by 
yielding  to  Divine  truth  and  seeking  the  Holy  Spirit,  has 
got  his  soul  converted.  But  without  this,  the  "  light  of 
Nature"  will  never  cultivate  piety.  It  never  did.  Hope 
has  ransacked  history  for  an  example.  So  has  Deism. 
So  has  a  proud  philosophy.  But  they  have  found  none. 
The  world  has  been  barren  of  piety  wherever  there  has 
been  no  revelation  of  God,  or  none  of  its  light  remaining 
among  the  glimmerings  of  tradition.  Man  needs  the 
Bible  to  convert  him  to  God  and  fit  him  to  die. 

This  is  our  theme :  the  absolute  necessity  of  special 
communications  from  God  himself,  to  teach  human 
nature  those  truths  about  God,  about  man's  self,  his 
duties,  and  his  destination,  which  are  necessary  to  his 
virtue,  peace,  happiness,  and  stable  hope. 

God's  Word,  as  sole  authority  and  guide  in  religion, 
is,  in  some  places  around  us,  getting  jostled  out  of  its 
place;  and  religion  is  judged  of,  its  regeneration  and 
cast  of  character,  not  by  inspired  thoughts,  so  much  as 
by  something  to  tickle  human  fancy  and  please  human 
pride.     Among  statesmen,  politicians,  there  seems  to  be 

1* 


10  THE  LIGHT   OF  NATUEE. 

a  growing  disposition  to  forget  Divine  Eevelation,  tlie 
just  foundation  of  law  and  obligation,  and  to  exalt 
human  wisdom  and  dreams  about  buman  progress  into 
its  place.  Our  scientific  and  literary  institutions,  not 
always  destitute  of  pride,  nor  always  superior  to  a  passion 
for  novelty  which  endangers  truth,  fond  of  speculation, 
and  fond  of  talking  about  "  the  progress  of  the  human 
mind,"  have  some  of  them  too  much  forgotten  the 
difference  betwixt  human  science  and  divine  teaching 
— forgotten  where  the  one  ends  and  the  other  begins 
—  forgotten,  too,  that  religion  is  not  a  human  science, 
and  can  not,  therefore,  be  improved  like  all  human 
sciences. 

A  growing  error  seems  to  be  rapidly  creeping  into 
many  writings,  professedly  religious,  and  which,  formed 
for  youthful  minds,  are  the  more  perilous  to  truth  and 
the  salvation  of  souls.  "  The  Light  of  Nature^''  is  an  idea 
that  beams  out  largely  in  some  of  these  modern  produc- 
tions. Their  authors  do  not,  indeed,  all  of  them,  o,ffirm 
its  sufficiency  to  save  men  without  the  Bible ;  but  they 
represent  it  as  teaching  many  fundamental  truths,  and 
their  mode  of  thought  is  such  as  to  invite  us  to  study  re- 
ligion in  the  Bible,  only  so  far  as  Nature  confirms  it ; — 
while  they  are  so  much  afraid  of  offending  a  disguised 
infidelity,  or  half  infidel  philosophizing,  that  they  will 
not  tell  the  truth  about  reason's  pretended  '^discov- 
eries," and  plainly  call  them  what  they  are, — pre- 
tences^ impositions^  every  one.  The  danger  is,  that  our 
delicate,  and  gentle,  and  illustrative,  and  what  is  called 
"  philosophical  and  natural"  method  of  teaching  Chris- 
tianity, will  utterly  undermine  her  foundations,  and  con- 
vert her  so-called  disciples  into  a  race  of  Deists. 

We  maintain  that  the  Light  of  Nature  is  insufficient : 


THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUKE.  11 

Eeason  reading  it  will  not  do.  Man  needs  an  immediate 
revelation  beyond  Nature.     Let  us  see. 

We  know  of  only  tlnee  great  sources  of  proof  to  bear 
on  this  proposition.  Let  us  examine  tliem,  and  decide 
the  question. 

I.  The  first  is  Fad^  History.  We  call  your  attention 
to  what  men  have  done  in  studying  religion  by  the 
Light  of  Nature,  through  the  powers  of  their  own  reason 
and  without  any  special  revelation  from  God. 

Glance  at  the  heathen  world.  Let  travelers  tell  you. 
Ask  the  missionaries  of  the  Cross  now  scattered  round 
the  world.  What  will  all  these  tell  you  ?  Do  they  say 
that  the  heathen  know  God  ?  that  they  have  any  just 
ideas  of  his  providence,  of  his  government,  or  their  own 
duty  ?  that  they  have  any  tolerable  system  of  morals  ? 
nay,  that  they  have  any  tolerable  notions  of  those  very 
works  of  nature,  which  are  so  much  relied  upon  as  going 
far  to  teach  them  religion?  It  is  all  contrary  to  this. 
These  people  are  in  gross  darkness.  And,  what  is  very 
noticeable,  that  which  they  call  religion  is  the  very  worst 
thing  there  is  among  them !  (not  universally,  I  admit, 
but  generally.)  Their  religion  is  baseness!  It  is  cruelty ! 
It  is  crime!  Their  very  gods  have  the  attributes  of 
devils !     And  this  is  the  "  religion  of  Nature !" 

Now  travel  back  into  heathen  antiquity.  It  has  always 
been  so.  Not  a  nation  can  be  named,  among  all  those 
that  have  come  up  in  the  long  march  of  centuries,  who 
ever  had  any  clear  ideas  of  the  living  and  true  God, 
or  the  duties  they  owed  their  Creator.  What  could 
any  one  of  them  tell  you  about  the  soul  of  man? 
Had  thej^  found  out  whether  it  was  mortal  or  immortal  ? 
Did  they  know  what  holiness  is  ?  what  is  "  the  chief 
end  of  man"  ?     Not  one !     Your  child  that  answers  the 


12  THE   LIGHT  OF  NATtJKE. 

first  question  in  the  Catecliism  knows  more  theology 
than  thej. 

The  plain  matter  of  fact  is,  these  nations  without  the 
Kevelation  of  Grod  never  had  any  natural  religion  I  Their 
religion  was  all  it?matural,  monstrous,  absurd,  as  distant 
from  the  teachings  of  the  Light  of  Nature,  as  it  was  from 
the  meekness  and  sweet  hopes  of  a  blessed  Christianity. 
Eeason  has  failed^  there  ;  always  failed,  and  every  where  ! 
The  Light  of  Nature  has  been  no  better  than  nothing ! 
Not  a  people  can  be  found,  on  the  wide  map  of  nations 
and  during  the  long  roll  of  centuries,  whose  religion, 
without  the  Bible,  ever  did  them  any  good ;  made 
them  any  better  to  live,  or  any  happier  in  dying.  Be 
it  remembered,  they  had  no  natural  religion.  Their 
religion  was  all  t^?inatural,  unreasonable,  superstition, 
vanity,  and  lies,  which  never  could  make  men  any 
better. 

One  thing  more.  Scholars  have  been  accustomed  to 
extol  some  of  the  sages  of  heathen  antiquity.  I  will  not 
say  too  highly.  There  were  master-minds  among  them. 
Aristotle,  Plato,  Euclid,  Cicero,  deserve  still  their  stand- 
ing in  the  libraries  of  the  learned.  But  mark :  When 
they  studied  science,  they  excelled ;  when  they  studied 
religion,  they  were  fools !  They  could  not  take  a  step 
rightly.  They  stumbled  and  fell  at  the  very  threshold. 
Cicero  says,  in  his  celebrated  treatise,  ''  Concerning  the 
nature  of  the  Gods,"  "  those  who  affirm  that  there  are 
such  beings  as  Gods,  have  such  strange  varieties  and 
contradictions  of  opinion,  that  it  is  impossible  to  classify 
them."  On  the  primary  article  of  natural  religion,  there- 
fore, the  very  being  of*  a  God,  these  master-spirits  were 
full  of  absurdities,  conjectures,  and  confusion.  They 
knew  nothing,   certainly ;  not  an  article ;  not  a  single 


THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE.  13 

truth.     If  heathenism  ever  had  a  creed,  it  was  a  creed  of 
folhes,  absurdities,  and  contradictions. 

But  still,  scholars  will  call  to  mind  some  of  the  digni- 
fied sentiments  scattered  through  the  classics ;  express- 
ions of  high  morality,  as  they  call  them,  and  some  ex- 
pressions which  sound  like  piety ;  and  modern  religious 
literature  is  making  a  foolish  use  of  them.  True,  there 
are  such  expressions.  In  reference  to  them,  we  have 
these  seven  things  to  say  ;  and  scholars  will  allow  us  to 
condense  when  we  answer  their  assumption. 

1.  All  these  expressions  put  together,  all  that  scholars 
can  rake  up,  are  not  worth  so  much  for  the  religion  of 
man,  as  these  four  words  in  the  Bible, — there  is  one  God. 

2.  Most  of  these  ideas  so  much  commended  came,  prob- 
ably, not  from  the  Light  of  Nature,  but  from  tradition, 
handed  down  from  ISToah  or  Abraham;  or  they  were 
derived  from  intercourse  with  the  Jews.  They  could 
have  been  so  derived  ;  they  probably  were.  The  advo- 
cate for  natural  religion  has  no  right  to  assume  that  they 
were  deductions  of  reason  made  from  the  Light  of  Kature. 
It  is  more  probable  that  they  were  derived  from  the 
Jews.  Pythagoras  traveled  much  in  the  East.  He 
lived  for  years  on  Mount  Lebanon,  where  surely  he 
must  have  learnt  much  about  religion  from  the  people  of 
Grod.  Herodotus,  the  father  of  history,  traveled.  Plato 
traveled.  The  Jews  themselves  were  scattered  the  world 
over,  and  carried  their  religion  along  with  them.  Horace 
sneers  at  their  credulity ;  "  credat  Judeus,  non  ego." 
And  it  is  a  matter  of  astonishment  to  any  good  scholar, 
how  it  could  have  come  to  pass,  that  the  learned,  at  least 
among  the  heathen,  were  as  ignorant  of  religious  truth 
as  they  were.  The  Christian  knows  very  well  how  it 
came  to  pass ;  he  knows  they  did  not  like  to  retain  God  in 


14  THE   LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 

their  knowledge.     (Eom.  i.  21.)     They  lost  as  sinners  what 
they  had  learnt  as  scholars,  by  testimony  and  tradition. 

3.  The  knowledge  which  men  need  to  have  of  Grod,  if 
it  had  been  gained  (as  it  was  not)  by  the  scholars  and 
sages  among  the  heathen,  and  gained  from  the  Light  of 
Nature  by  reason,  would  not  prove  that  to  be  a  sufficient 
light  for  the  religion  of  man.  All  men  need  to  know 
God.  It  would  not  be  enough,  when  we  are  inquiring, 
for  the  sake  of  the  whole  race  of  humanity,  after  some 
sufficient  guide  in  religion,  if  you  should  be  able  to  hunt 
up  some  instances  of  great  men,  of  great  minds,  great 
leisure,  great  opportunities,  who  have  found  such  a 
guide.  Little  men  die,  as  well  as  great  ones.  A  man 
does  not  need  to  be  a  scholar  in  order  to  have  a  soul. 
You  must  not,  then,  bring  up  your  scholars  as  examples. 
Here  every  human  being  has  an  equal  interest.  If  there 
lives  a  man,  or  ever  did,  who,  by  the  common  exercise 
of  his  powers,  cannot  attain  the  knowledge  of  God,  that 
fact  is  fatal  to  the  scheme  of  a  natural  religion.  Such 
knowledge  needs  to  be  as  universal  as  souls.  It  needs 
to  be  clear  to  the  weakest  understanding. 

4.  It  needs  to  be  well  proved.  A  guess  is  bad  foot-hold 
for  an  immortal  soul !  And  if  you  could  make  it  out 
(as  you  cannot)  that  some  of  your  sages  guessed  right, 
that  will  not  do ;  that  will  not  demonstrate  the  suffi- 
ciency of  the  Light  of  Nature. 

5.  On  a  matter  of  so  much  moment  as  our  chief  interests, 
our  duties,  our  destiny  in  another  world,  and  how  our 
God  will  judge  us,  we  can  not  affi^rd  to  have  a  single 
hngering  particle  of  uncertainty  on  vital  points.  If  we 
have,  it  may  be  fatal  to  us.  We  may  imagine  we  are 
pleasing  God  when  we  are  displeasing  him.  We  may 
think  we  are  going  in  the  way  of  life  while  we  are  only  on 


THE  LIGHT  OF  NATURE.  15 

the  down-hill  of  perdition.     The  uncertainty,  the  lack  of 
proof  among  your  sages,  makes  chaff  of  their  speculations. 

6.  Our  knowledge  needs  to  be  extensive.  A  hint  or 
two  flung  out  in  the  dark  cannot  answer  our  purpose. 
Those  other  points,  of  which  we  are  ignorant,  may  be  the 
vital  ones  ;  the  very  points  essential  to  our  duty  and  our 
everlasting  peace. 

7.  If  scholars  will  search  a  little,  they  will  find  dem- 
onstrations, thick  and  dark  enough,  of  the  entire  ineffi- 
cacy  of  all  this  boasted  knowledge  of  heathen  sages  and 
scholars,  to  turn  them  from  the  grossest  indecencies  and 
immoralities  ;  things  so  gross,  that  there  is  not  a  promis- 
cuous assembly  in  Christendom  that  would  endure  even 
the  mention  of  them.  The  light  which  only  leads  to  such 
a  religion  cannot  claim  any  excellence  or  even  efficacy. 

These  seven  ideas  are  enough  to  silence  every  word 
that  can  be  spoken  about  some  of  the  expressions  of 
ancient  heathens,  which  sound  like  religion,  and  which 
are  taken  to  prove  the  great  extent  to  which  nature  can 
conduct  men  in  the  knowledge  of  God  and  their  own 
duties  and  destinies. 

JSTow  let  us  gather  up  the  substance  of  all  this,  and 
bring  this  argument  to  a  conclusion.  The  substance  is 
Fact — History — the  record  of  human  nature.  And  it 
is  this :  mankind  never  have  learnt  any  thing  about  true 
religion  from  the  Light  of  Nature — ^not  an  article,  not  the 
very  being  of  a  God,  not  the  most  necessary  vital  truths. 
This  is  the  premises.  The  conclusion  is  irresistible  ;  they 
never  can  ham  in  that  way.  It  is  folly  to  maintain,  that 
men  in  all  ages,  and  of  all  degrees  of  intellectual 
advancement,  can  learn  what  no  man  ever  yet  did.  The 
revelation  of  God  is,  therefore,  indispensable,  and  indis- 
pensable every  where.     The  sage,  the  scholar  among  his 


16  THE  LIGHT  OF  NATUEE. 

books/  needs  it,  as  really  and  as  mucli,  as  tlie  boor  over 
his  mattock.  All  fact — tlie  history  of  ha  man  nature, 
proves  that  men  can  learn  nothing  at  all  of  religion  by 
the  Light  of  Nature  alone. 

II.  The  second  source  of  proof  is  the  Scriptures  them- 
selves. We  call  your  attention  to  the  fallacy  of  those 
ideas  about  the  Light  of  Nature,  into  which  so  many  of 
the  well-meaning,  but  weak,  (in  the  Church  and  out  of 
it,)  have  fallen.  If  we  have  in  one  article  corrected  their 
history,  let  us  have  a  second  to  correct  their  Scripture 
interpretations. 

These  men  open  the  Bible  and  read, — the  heavens 
declare  the  glory  of  God.  But  they  forget,  while  they 
thus  summon  Scripture  witness,  two  very  important 
matters.  One  is^  that  the  Scriptures  do  not  say  that 
men  are  converted  by  the  declaration  of  these  heavens. 
They  attribute  conversion,  all  religion,  to  the  Divine 
revelation,  accompanied  by  the  Divine  Spirit.  The  other 
is,  that  the  Scriptures  never  say  that  men  see  and  under- 
stand what  these  visible  heavens  declare.  Our  stripling 
philosophers,  and  poet  Christians,  proud  of  their  so-called 
"  Light  of  Nature,"  and  disposed  to  teach  Christianity 
to  men  very  much  as  they  would  teach  botany  or 
astronomy,  must  not  think  to  press  the  Bible  into  their 
service,  to  make  it  countenance  their  errors.  It  neither 
says  that  Nature's  light  converts  men,  (makes  them  relig- 
ious,) nor  that  men  understand  nature. 

The  fallacy  of  the  conclusions  drawn  from  Scripture 
by  these  dreamy  natural  religionists,  may  be  detected  by 
any  example.  How  often  is  that  passage  in  the  Epistle 
to  the  Romans  quoted,  only  to  be  perverted  for  bolster- 
ing up  a  conclasion  directly  the  opposite  of  its  own.  The 
invisible  things  ofhim^  from  the  creation  of  the  world^  are 


THE   LIGHT  OF  KATURE.  17 

clearly  seen,  even  Ms  eternal  power  and  godhead.  What  is 
the  Bible  conclusion  ?  It  is  this :  so,  then,  they  are  with- 
out excuse.  Excuse  for  what?  For  having  a  knowl- 
edge of  God  ?  That  would  make  the  apostle  talk  like  a 
a  madman  !  No.  Without  excuse  for  not  knowing  God. 
But  what  is  the  conclusion  of  our  poetic  and  naturaliz- 
ing Christians?  It  is  that  the  Light  of  Nature,  the 
creation,  the  things  that  are  made,  are  quite  sufficient  to 
give  men  a  knowledge  of  God!  And  this  conclusion 
they  take  as  a  foundation  for  theories^  and  songs,  and 
lectures;  though  directly  in  the  face  of  the  conclusion 
stated  in  the  text  itself.  The  text  plainly  affirms  the 
practical  inefficacy  of  the  works  of  God  to  teach  men 
religious  truth.  It  says  they  are  not  taught — they  are 
without  excuse.  They  are  only  condemned,  instead  of 
being  enlightened  and  saved.  They  do  not  read  nature 
rightly. 

This  text  and  its  misinterpretation  may  stand  as  an 
example  of  all  the  passages  in  the  Bible  which  have 
been  pressed  into  this  bad  and  mistaken  service.  Every 
one  of  them  has  been  perverted.  The  case  is  simply 
this  :  the  Bible  tells  us  of  the  evidences  of  himself  which 
God  hath  imprinted  upon  the  works  of  his  hands.  It 
does  not  tell  us,  that  men,  unaided  by  another  revelation, 
have  ever  read  one  of  these  evidences  rightly,  or  ever  can. 
It  does  not  tell  us  that  man,  corrupted,  fallen,  blinded  by 
sin  and  in  love  with  darkness,  can  ever  read  and  under- 
stand those  lessons  of  light,  which  illuminate  the 
heavens,  and  lie,  more  or  less  clear,  over  all  the  works  of 
God.  Mistaken  men  have  concluded  that,  because  there 
is  light  in  Nature,  therefore  men  could  see  it.  They  for- 
got that  men  had  no  eyes !  The  Scriptures,  and  God 
their  author,  did  not  forget  it.     This   Bible  came  out 


18  THE   LIGHT  OF  NATUKE. 

from  behind  tlie  curtain  wbicb.  hides  invisibles,  to  open 
the  eyes  of  the  hlind^  and  teach  men  how  to  read  those 
lessons  about  God,  which  are  scattered  over  creation,  and 
echoed  so  often  in  the  language  of  Divine  Providence. 
Without  this  special  Kevelation,  however  effective 
these  lessons  might  be  to  a  sinless  man,  to  link  him  to 
the  Deity  in  light  and  love^  thej  have  utterly  failed  to 
profit  sinful  man. 

These  lessons  are  clear.  We  will  not  yield  to  the 
most  poetic  naturalist  in  admiration  of  them.  For  our 
part,  we  cannot  conceive  how  God  Almighty  could 
have  fitted  up  a  material  machinery  which  should  have 
more  clearly  unfolded  his  wonderful  power  and  wisdom, 
than  this  moving,  visible  universe.  But  men  see  this 
machinery  and  know  not  God.  The  sun  is  in  his  pavil- 
ion above  them  by  day,  and  the  stars  roll  in  the  gor- 
geous heavens  of  midnight ;  but  men  look  out  upon  all 
these  things  of  materiality  and  movement,  and,  until  the 
Bible  tells  them  how  to  understand  them  and  reason 
about  them,  and  guards  them  from  error  at  every 
step,  they  never  learn  a  single  religious  truth  rightly  I 
And  the  clearness,  the  multitude  and  glory  of  these 
bright  lessons  about  God,  only  ought  to  serve  to  con- 
vince us,  therefore,  to  what  an  awful  depth  of  degra- 
dation and  darkness  sin  has  flung  man.  The  firmament 
that  bends  above  him — ^the  sun  in  his  pavilion  of  glory, 
does  him  no  good  I  He  can  see  it  all ;  he  does  see  it ;  he 
has  seen  it  for  centuries ;  he  has  seen  it  from  New  Zea- 
land to  Nova  Zembla — from  Labrador  to  Patagonia;  and, 
without  the  Bible,  has  remained  an  idolater  still !  The 
Bible  never  says  that  the  Light  of  Nature  alone  can  lead 
man  a  single  step  in  religion.  It  says  only  that  men 
ought  to  be  instructed  by  it,  but  are  not.     Let  not  our 


THE  LIGHT  OF    NATURE.  "       19 

moral  philosopliers,  and  our  tasteful  Christians,  misinter- 
pret it.  Let  them  remember  that  the  Bible  appeals  to 
the  works  of  Nature,  for  the  purposes  of  impression^  not 
for  those  of  instruction — for  devotion,  but  not  for  doc- 
trine. 

in.  The  third  source  of  proof  is  found  in  the  incon- 
clusiveness  of  the  arguments  employed  by  the  disciples 
of  Kature.  We  take  it  for  granted,  that  they  have  done 
the  best  they  could  ;  and  if  their  arguments  are  not  suf- 
ficient, no  sufficient  ones  are  to  be  found.  Turn,  there- 
fore, your  attention  to  those  premises,  processes  and  con- 
clusions of  reasoning,  by  which  the  Light  of  Nature  is 
said  to  be  shown  as  sufficient  to  teach  a  reasonable  man 
some  important  religious  truths. 

This  is  a  wide  field.  We  cannot  examine  the  whole 
of  it.  We  select  only  a  few  prominent  matters.  Take 
six  articles. 

1.  The  existence  of  one  God,  the  Creator  and  Euler 
of  the  world.  Men  have  said,  that  this  is  one  of  the 
plainest  truths  of  natural  religion,  demonstrable  without 
the  Bible.  I  deny  this  assumption.  I  demand  the 
proof.  Speak,  thou  disciple  of  Keason :  tell  me  how 
you  know  there  is  one  God,  and  not  twenty,  till  the  Bible 
has  taught  you. 

The  disciple  of  reason  gives  me  this  answer  :  He 
says  there  is  a  unity  of  design  in  all  the  works  of  crea- 
tion and  providence ;  and  he  says,  it  is  just,  reasonable, 
unavoidable,  to  infer,  from  this  unity,  the  unity  of  God, 
the  Author  of  creation  and  providence.  But  I  am  not 
ready  for  that  inference  :  three  difficulties  lie  in  my  way. 
Lift  out  these  stumbling-blocks  from  my  path,  and  I  will 
go  along  with  you. 

First  Difficulty.     I  do  not  see  that  unity  of  design, 


20  THE   LIGHT  OF   NATURE* 

(unless  you  allow  me  to  take  tlie  Bible  explanations.)  I 
never  did.  I  cannot.  What  do  I  see?  I  see  trees 
growing  np  in  the  forest;  but,  lightnings  rive  them! 
hurricanes  dash  them  down  !  Where  is  the  unity  there  ? 
I  see  health  and  beauty  mantling  the  cheek  of  youth ; 
but  they  fade  away  while  I  look !  disease,  death  have 
done  their  dreadfal  work  !  Where  is  the  unity  there  ? 
I  see  nations  living  in  harmony,  and  happiness  growing 
out  of  it ;  but  soon  my  ear  is  startled  with  the  trumpet- 
summons,  and  the  next  post  brings  me  the  tale  of  blood, 
under  some  such  name  as  Cerro-Grordo,  or  Marathon,  or 
Waterloo,  or  Bosworth  fields ! — These  things  do  not  look 
like  unity.  The  world  is  full  of  them.  And  I  am 
ready,  therefore,  to  fling  into  the  face  of  this  disciple  of 
Keason,  this  strange  question  :  Is  it  not  more  reasonable 
to  infer,  that  there  are  two  Deities,  a  good  one  and  a 
bad  one  ?  He  is  dumb.  He  cannot  answer  that  ques- 
tion, till  he^ calls  the  Bible  to  his  aid. 

The  Second  Difficulty  about  the  inference  of  the  unity 
of  God,  from  the  unity  of  design  seen  in  the  operations 
of  Nature,  is  the  link  that  joins  these  two  unities  to- 
gether. I  do  not  see  it.  If  there  was  a  unity  of  design 
seen  in  the  world,  how  would  that  demonstrate  the  unity 
of  God  ?  Why,  says  the  reasoner,  (very  acute,)  "  dif- 
ferent Deities  could  not  harmonize."  Ah !  who  told 
you  that  ?  How  do  you  know  it  ?  If  there  are  twenty 
Gods,  must  they  necessarily  quarrel  ?  especially  if  they 
are  good  ones  ?  Why  is  it  at  all  unreasonable  to  sup- 
pose that  several  Deities  should  perfectly  agree  and  act 
together  ?  The  reasoner  is  baffled  again !  He  can  not 
lift  the  stone  of  stumbling  out  of  my  way,  till  the  Bible 
puts  the  lever  into  his  hand. 

The  Third  Difficulty  is,  that  men  without  the  Bible 


THE   LIGHT    OF    NATURE.  21 

never  made  this  inference.  They  never  did.  I  defy  you ; 
you  can  not  find  it.  If  the  unity  of  God  is  such  a  plain 
inference  of  common  sense,  how  came  it  about  that 
common  sense  never  made  this  inference  alone?  The 
disciple  of  Eeason  is  confounded  again.  He  cannot 
answer.     This  fact  annihilates  his  theory. 

"We  dismiss  this  article.  Unaided  reason  cannot 
prove  there  is  but  one  God.     Man  needs  the  Bible. 

2.  A  second  Article ;  the  attributes  of  Deity.  The 
same  processes  of  examination  may  be  applied  to  all  of 
them.  "We  name  two,  as  examples — immutability  and 
goodness. 

Firsts  the  immutability  of  God.  How  does  the  Light 
of  Nature  demonstrate  this  attribute  ?  It  needs  to  be 
demonstrated.  If  God  is  one  thing  to-day  and  another 
thing  to-morrow,  we  have  no  firm  foothold — no  ground 
of  hope  or  peace.  But  reason  alone  can  not  demonstrate 
it.  The  government  of  the  world  certainly  appears  un- 
stable. Examine  it.  Ancient  cities  have  crumbled 
down :  arts  have  been  lost :  oceans  sometimes  gain  upon 
the  dry  land,  and  sometimes  the  dry  land  pushes  back 
the  ocean :  barbarism  reigns  now,  where  once  science 
built  her  temples  :  the  bones  of  animals  are  dug  out  of 
the  earth,  belonging  to  races  now  utterly  extinct,  per- 
haps :  aye,  and  a  sensation  of  mournfulness  comes  over 
the  heart  from  the  distant  heavens,  when  we  remember 
the  lost  Pleiad  !  There  is  no  rock  here  to  stand  upon,  to 
demonstrate  the  unchangeableness  of  God.  Eeason  can 
not  prove  it. 

Second;  the  goodness  of  God  is  a  still  greater  diffi- 
culty. For,  behold !  Wars  follow  peace :  famine  treads 
on  the  heels  of  plenty :  earthquakes  shake  down  cities, 
and,  amid  their  shock,  all  that  felicity  which  you  relied 


22  THE  LIGHT  OF   NATURE. 

•upon  to  prove  the  goodness  of  God,  perishes  in  an  hour ! 
The  rich  yellow  harvest,  ripe  for  the  sickle,  seems  like 
a  proof  of  goodness  ;  but  what  will  you  say,  when  mil- 
dews have  blasted  it,  or  agues  hinder  the  strong  men 
from  the  gathering  ?  The  Light  of  Nature  cannot  tell 
us,  how  a  God  of  infinite  goodness  can  inflict  so  many 
woes  upon  the  world.  And  if  you  take  a  step  more  and 
try  to  tell,  the  existence  of  the  very  moral  evil  you 
mention,  as  deserving  chastisements,  introduces  you  into 
a  worse  difficulty.  How  came  sin  ?  How  does  its  very 
existence  comport  with  the  goodness  of  the  Deity  ?  The 
mere  disciple  of  Keason  cannot  touch  the  question  I  he 
stands  aghast  and  dumb  !  and  he  will  stand  thus  forever, 
if  revelation  does  not  help  him ! 

We  dismiss  this  article.  Unaided  Eeason  staggers, 
when  attempting  to  demonstrate  the  attributes  of  God. 
She  needs  the  Bible. 

3d.  A  third  article — the  mode  of  the  Divine  existence. 

K  the  knowledge  of  the  true  God  is  essential  to  our 
religion,  to  our  duty  and  happiness,  we  ought  to  know 
something  about  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost. 
Creation  says  not  a  word  about  this, — Providence  not  a 
word, — Eeason  alone  never  even  ventured  a  conjecture. 
And  if  the  reasoner  should  affirm,  that  this  knowledge  of 
the  Trinity  is  not  necessary  to  true  religion,  we  might  beg 
his  permission  to  affirm,  that  it  is  ;  and  who,  then,  shall 
decide  betwixt  us  ?  We  need  the  Bible  to  decide,  after 
all.  But,  how  does  he  know  it  is  not  necessary  ?  How 
little  may  a  man  know  about  God,  and  yet  have  true  re- 
ligion ?  Whatever  he  might  respond  to  this  question, 
the  great  fact  remains,  that  the  Light  of  Nature  gives 


THE   LIGHT  OF    NATURE.  23 

not  even  tlie  faintest  glimmering  about  the  Trinity  of 
the  Godhead.     Man  needs  the  Bible. 

4:th  Article — the  knowledge  of  God's  will. — Probably 
none  but  an  Atheist  will  deny,  that,  in  order  to  our  hav- 
ing any  religion,  we  need  to  know  the  will  of  God  ;  and 
that  our  religion  must  consist  somewhat,  at  least,  in  a 
designed  conformity  to  that  will.  But  Nature's  light 
does  not  teach  it  to  me.  It  does  not  tell  me  how 
to  worship  my  Maker,  or  how  to  act  towards  mor- 
tals like  myself.  If  any  one  says  I  must  seek  a 
knowledge  of  God's  will  in  his  works,  I  look  abroad 
on  the  earth  and  upward  to  the  heavens,  and  con- 
fess that  I  behold  splendid  and  innumerable  proofs 
of  power,  of  design,  of  wisdom  unfathomable.  I  see 
how  God  wants  matter  to  act ;  but  what  good  does 
that  do  to  my  immortal  soul  ?  I  do  not  see  how  God 
wants  mind  to  act.  His  works  do  not  tell  me  what  to 
do  to  secure  the  favor  of  God,  and  my  own  eternal  hap- 
piness. I  cannot  find  in  them  the  record  of  his  will.  I 
want  his  favor.  If  there  is  a  God  who  hath  made  me, 
and  who  hath  spread  out  these  visible  heavens  and  laid 
the  foundations  of  the  earth  beneath  my  feet,  I  dare  not 
have  him  up  in  arms  against  me !  But  wliere^  in  the 
Light  of  Nature,  do  I  perceive  any  atonement  for  sin  ? — 
— where  any  proof  of  its  possibility,  or  of  its  acceptance  ? 
where  any  ground  of  certainty,  that  God  will  not  yet 
embark  all  his  power  to  make  me  miserable,  do  what  I 
may  ?  Nowhere  !  nowhere  !  The  whole  Universe  has 
not  a  hint  visible  to  man !     Man  needs  the  Bible. 

5  th  Article — the  penalty  of  transgressing  against  the 
will  of  God,  and  the  results  of  conformity  to  it. 


24  THE   LIGHT  OF  NATURE. 

If  I  am  to  act  in  religion,  in  an  intelligent  manner,  I 
wisli  to  know  what  is  before  me.  If  I  act  on  a  mistake, 
my  mistake  may  be  fatal.  If  I  act  on  a  mistake,  my 
religion  may  all  be  false.  Penalties  and  rewards  form 
an  important  part  of  a  system  of  moral  government ;  and 
the  governed  need  to  know  something  about  them, 
Now,  what  says  the  Light  of  Nature  ?  Not  a  syllable ! 
Felicity,  it  is  true,  as  a  general  thing,  follows  one  class 
of  actions  in  this  life,  and  infelicity  another.  But  I 
wish  to  know  if  this  is  all.  If  not,  what  rewards  and 
punishments  are  reserved  in  another  world,  and  how 
long  the  one  and  the  other  are  going  to  last.  If  your 
conjecture  should  whisper  in  my  ear  that  punishment 
will  come  to  an  end,  my  fears,  my  hopes  will  both  urge 
the  inquiry,  how  can  I  be  certain,  then,  that  rewards  will 
not  come  to  an  end  ?  show  me  some  bond  of  security  to 
spread  over  my  eternity  !  You  perceive  we  are  afloat — 
out  of  sight  of  land ;  and  thick  darkness  is  around  us, 
not  a  star  to  twinkle  on  our  midnight,  when  we  study 
these  matters  in  the  mere  school  of  Reason !  Man  needs 
the  Bible  to  give  him  unfoldings  of  futurity. 

Yes,  of  futurity  altogether :  for  the  6th  article  is,  the 
utter  insufficiency  of  Nature's  light  to  demonstrate  even 
the  immortality  of  the  soul. 

Such  a  demonstration,  the  disciples  of  Reason  tell  us,  is 
to  be  found  in  its  capacities.  Their  argument  is  this : 
these  capacities  are  not  fully  unfolded  here,  and  the 
Creator  never  would  have  formed  them,  to  have  them 
perish  at  death.  But  this  is  no  proof.  It  is  miserable 
conjecture,  and  nothing  but  conjecture — a  mere  assump- 
tion. Besides,  there  are  thousands  of  things,  having 
valuable  properties,  which  are  never  permitted  to  be  un- 


THE   LIGHT   OF   NATURE.  25 

folded.  Seeds  rot.  Gold  is  hidden  in  tlie  bosom  of  the 
earth.  Not  human  beings  only,  but  brute  ones,  die  in 
infancy.  And  does  the  reasoner  tell  us,  that  these 
seeds,  this  gold,  these  perished  young  brutes,  are  going 
to  have  an  immortality  for  the  unfolding  of  their  proper- 
ties ?  And  more :  talk  about  valuable  properties  ?  what 
are  our  httle  capacities  to  the  infinite  God?  If  he 
should  annihilate  us,  he  could  easily  fill  our  place  with 
more  noble  beings.  Where  does  Nature  tell  us  he  will 
not  do  so  ? 

But  the  disciples  of  Keason  muster  a  little  poetry,  and 
tell  us  of 

"  This  pleasing  hope,  this  fond  desire, 
This  longing  after  immortality." 

And  this  desire  for  perpetual  existence,  they  take  as 
demonstration  that  the  soul  is  immortal.  The  argument 
runs  thus :  God  would  not  have  implanted  such  a  desire 
to  mock  it  with  disappointment.  The  argument  is 
weak.  Three  ideas  are  each  one  of  them  enough  to 
overthrow  it :  First,  it  is  only  an  assumption.  It  does 
not  belong  to  man  to  tell  what  God  would  not  do. 
Second,  this  very  desire  for  immortality  may  be  one  of 
the  fruits  of  sin :  Nature  does  not  prove  it  is  not,  and 
how  can  she  prove  that  the  desire  itself  may  not  fall 
under  the  displeasure  of  God  ?  And  the  third  idea  is, 
that  men  have  other  longings,  besides  that  after  immor- 
tality, w-hich  God  does  utterly  disappoint.  They  long  for 
power,  for  honor,  for  wealth ;  and  the  longing  often  goes 
for  nothing.  Death  finds  them  longing  to  live  longer ; 
and  if  the  longing  could  demonstrate  the  immortality  of 
the  soul,  it  would  demonstrate  the  immortality  of  the 
body  too ;  and  we  should  have  few  friends  to  bury  and 

2 


26  THE   LIGHT   OF  NATURE. 

few  tombs  to  build.  And  if  it  should  be  granted,  tbat 
the  longing  proves  tbere  is  an  immortality  somewhere^  it 
does  not  prove  tbat  immortality  is  for  me.  It  may  be 
denied  to  me,  as  are  many  tilings  I  long  for. 

But  again,  these  disciples  of  Eeason  resort  to  "philoso- 
phy," (as  they  call  it,)  and  tell  us  the  soul  must  be  im- 
mortal because  it  is  "  immaterial  " — a  spirit,  and  cannot 
perish.  This  argument  might  be  sufiiciently  answered 
by  asking,  if  it  applies  to  all  spirit?  to  the  ox  in  his 
stall,  and  the  oyster  in  his  bed  of  mud  ?  are  their  spirits 
to  be  immortal  ?  and  by  asking,  if  it  just  brings  us  down 
to  a  level  with  the  theology  of  the  poor  Indian — 

"  Who  thinks,  admitted  to  that  equal  sky,  \. 

His  faithful  dog  shall  bear  him  company  "  ? 

Is  the  immortality  of  man  on  a  level  with  the  immortal- 
ity of  horses,  in  this  natural  religion?  But  we  have 
another  answer.  Our  spirits  came  from  God.  He  can 
annihilfite  them  if  he  please :  at  least,  Nature's  light  is 
unable  to  show  that  he  can  not,  and  unable  to  show  that 
he  will  not  cast  back  our  immaterial  spirits  into  their 
original  non-existence.  Perhaps  he  has  some  unknown, 
but  wise  purpose  to  answer  by  us  for  a  little  while ;  and 
then  will  order  that  we  exist  no  more !  Where,  in 
Nature,  do  you  find  any  thing  to  demonstrate  the  con- 
trary? Nowhere!  God  has  not  assured  us  by  this 
earth,  or  these  heavens,  that  the  immaterial  spirit  shall 
not  perish  for  ever !  And  once,  once  the  boastful  "reign 
of  reason  "  did  write  over  the  entrance  to  the  grave-yards 
the  strange  words — "  death  is  an  eternal  sleep !  "  It  was 
an  impious  falsehood  ;  but  its  authors  were  the  disciples 
of  "reason"  and  "philosophy,"  and  talked  proudly  about 
the  advance  of  mind.  Man  needs  the  Bible  to  teach  him 
his  immortality. 


THE   LIGHT  OF  NATUKE.  27 

We  have  done.  As  mucli  as  possible  we  have  con- 
densed these  arguments.  You  see  how  it  is.  The  history 
of  what  man  has  done  in  attaining  religious  knowledge 
without  the  Bible's  aid,  by  the  mere  Light  of  Nature ; 
the  use  which  the  Bible  itself  attributes  to  that  light; 
and  the  weak,  sophistical,  and  unsatisfactory  arguments 
of  Keason  about  religion,  all  of  them  put  together,  not 
enough  to  furnish  the  least  satisfaction  to  sinful  and 
dying  man ;  demonstrate  to  us  the  insufficiency  of 
Nature,  and  our  need  of  the  Word  of  God.  Speculation 
will  not  do.  You  must  have  faith  to  take  God  at  his 
word,  and  die  on  the  pillow  of  the  promises. 

The  real  utility  of  all  the  Light  of  Kature  on  the  subject 
of  religion  consists  in  this :  that  it  demonstrates  its  own 
insufficiency  for  teaching  us  a  single  important  truth, 
and  thus  turns  us  over  to  the  Word  of  God  ;  and  having 
done  so,  shines  as  a  constant  witness,  and  every  where  to 
impress  the  lessons  of  Bible-teaching  upon  us.  It  strikes 
the  Infidel  dumb,  and  aids  the  devotions  of  the  Christian, 
living  or  dying.  But  alone  it  teaches  nothing.  It  never 
did.  God  never  said  it  could.  And  its  reasonings, 
proudly  called  in  the  schools  "  science"  and  "  philos- 
ophy," vanish  into  smoke  when  we  touch  them.  That 
philosophy  is  good  for  nothing.  It  cannot  teach  relig- 
ion. All  it  can  do  is  to  demonstrate  its  own  darkness, 
and  turn  you  over  to  the  Word  of  God  for  every  truth 
and  every  certainty. 

You  will  never  read  God's  world  rightly,  till  his  Word 
teaches  you  how.  After  it  has  taught  you,  you  may 
gather  proofs  of  religion  from  Nature,  which  you  could 
not  gather  before.  If  we  take  his  Word  first  to  teach  us, 
we  may  understand  the  Light  of  Nature  rightly,  and  may 
derive  some  advantages  by  appealing  to  these  heavens 


28  THE  LIGHT   OF  NATURE. 

whicli  declare  the  glory  of  God.  The  lesson  is  in  Nature ; 
but  Nature  is  a  sealed  book  to  a  sinner.  Alone,  thoug:li 
it  may  silence  a  skeptic,  it  cannot  satisfy  a  soul.  If  we 
do  not  take  God's  Word  to  guide  us,  we  shall  grope  our 
way  to  eternity  in  tlie  dark.  Eeason  cannot  support  the 
staggering  footsteps  of  humanity  on  the  dark  mountains 
of  death.  She  has  no  Christ  to  tell  of,  no  atonement,  no 
pardon,  no  firm  foothold  on  immortal  rock,  no  friend  to 
take  us  from  the  grasp   of  death  upward  to 

"  Jerusalem,  our  happy  home." 

Man  needs  the  Bible.  Under  lucid  skies  men  are 
perishing  without  it.  The  Light  of  Nature  does  not 
suffice  to  make  them  wise,  or  good,  or  happy  ;  to  pacify 
conscience,  or  light  "up  the  eternal  world  with  the  certain- 
ties of  a  blessed  hope.  But,  the  Law  of  the  Lord  is  per- 
fect^ converting  the  soid 


D'aiiitg;  ot  t|i£  ^^torU's  ^^lisiJom. 


For  after  that  in  the  wisdom  of  God  the  -world  by  wisdom  knew  not 
God,  it  pleased  God  by  the  foolishness  of  preaching  to  save  them  that  be- 
lieve.— 1  Corinthians,  i.  21. 


rpHE  grandeur  of  Christianity  and  its  value  very  mucli 
consist  in  the  two  facts,  that  it  reveals  a  peculiar 
system  and  accomplishes  peculiar  effects.  Christianity 
is  unlike  every  thing  else.  It  is  not  a  matter  of  nature, 
and  is  not  to  be  explained  by  nature.  It  is  a  miracle 
from  beginning  to  end ;  it  is  all  miracle.  It  is  an  inter- 
position of  God,  doing  what  he  has  no  where  else  done, 
and  among  the  ravages  of  sin  setting  up  the  signals  of 
recovery. 

He  who  approaches  this  system,  therefore,  either  to 
understand  it  or  be  saved  by  it,  must  not  approach  it  as 
he  approaches  an  ordinary  subject.  He  must  give  to  it 
its  own  high  place  and  the  distinction  of  its  own  high 
peculiarity,  else  he  cannot  be  saved  by  it — he  cannot 
understand  it. 

This  idea  enters  into  the  text  before  us.  It  pervades 
it.  The  apostle  draws  a  distinction  betwixt  the  attempts 
of  men  and  the  revelation  of  God.  Such  attempts, 
without  revelation,  accomplished  nothing ;  the  world  by 
wisdom  knew  not  God.  This  was  one  side  of  the  matter. 
On  the  back  of  this  failure  came  the  other  side:    it 


80  VANITY   OF  THE  WORLD'S  WISDOM. 

pleased  God  hy  the  foolishness  of  PREACHING  to  save  them 
that  believe.  This  was  no  failure.  The  thing  was  ac- 
complished by  preaching  which  could  not  be  accom- 
plished by  all  the  wisdom  of  men.  A  new  system  came 
in.  Divine  revelation  was  different  from  all  human 
wisdom,  and  its  results  were  different. 

The  general  idea  of  the  text,  therefore,  is  the  peculiar 
superiority  of  Christianity  over  all  human  Science  on 
the  subject  of  religion.  But,  in  order  to  understand  the 
meaning  of  the  apostle,  let  us, 

I.  Explain  the  terms  and  clauses  of  the  text. 

II.  Let  us  explain  and  demonstrate  the  general  prin- 
ciple it  lays  down — the  superiority  of  Revelation. 

III.  Let  us  glance  at  some  items  of  application. 

I.  In  explaining  the  terms  of  the  text,  let  us  take 
them  in  their  order. 

In  the  wisdom  of  God:  This  clause  is  employed  here 
just  to  account  for  a  thing  mentioned  in  the  next.  It 
was  by  the  wisdom  of  God^  that  the  world  by  ivisdom  hneio 
not  God.  A  large  portion  of  mankind  had  been  left  for 
centuries,  (as  some  are  left  still,)  destitute  of  Divine 
Revelation,  to  try  their  power  and  follow  the  dictates  of 
their  own  boasted  reason.  The  apostle  gives  no  other 
account  of  this,  than  that  it  was  done  by  the  wisdom  of 
God.  He  does  not  assign  any  reason  for  it.  Probably 
he  did  not  know  any.  He  knew  how  far  to  go  in  his 
explanations,  and  where  to  stop.  He  does  not  speculate  : 
he  merely  states  a  matter  of  historic  fact,  and  says  this 
occurred  by  the  wisdom  of  God.  It  was  a  matter  of 
Divine  sovereignty  and  Divine  wisdom ;  a  thing  of  the 
Infinite  One,  and  not  to  be  complained  of,  or  even 
understood,  except  as  a  naked  fact. 


VANITY   OF   THE   WORLD's   WISDOM.  81 

Why  men  were  left  then,  and  some  are  left  now,  with- 
out revelation  to  try  the  powers  of  their  own  reason,  is 
a  mystery  we  cannot  penetrate.  Paul  did  not  try  to 
penetrate  it.  He  only  refers  it  to  the  wisdom  of  God,  and 
leaves  it  there.  This  is  characteristic  of  him.  I  do  not 
recollect  a  single  instance  in  all  his  Epistles  wherein  he 
attempts  to  speculate.  He  explains ;  he  reasons  like  a 
giant  to  demonstrate  the  great  doctrines  of  Christianity ; 
he  embarks  all  his  severe  logic  to  convict  men  of  sin  and 
persuade  them  to  fly  to  Christ ;  but  in  reference  to  any 
of  the  matters  which  he  discusses,  I  recollect  no  instance 
wherein  he  ventures  a  conjecture,  or  attempts  a  single 
step  of  unfolding,  by  any  reasoning  powers  of  his  own,  a 
single  step  beyond  the  revelation  which  was  given  to 
him.  He  knew  the  peculiarity  of  Christianity,  and  was 
willing  to  let  it  remain  peculiar.  He  did  not  aim  to 
level  it  down  to  the  reason,  the  sciences,  the  philosophy 
of  men.  Nobody  ever  knew  better  than  Paul  knew 
how  much  the  feelings  of  human  nature  will  sometimes 
rise  in  opposition  to  facts  transpiring  under  the  Divine 
government,  and  in  opposition,  too,  to  the  doctrines  of 
Divine  grace.  But  in  all  such  cases,  the  apostle's  answer 
is  just  like  the  clause  in  the  text  before  us ;  he  refers  the 
matter  to  the  wisdom  of  Ood.  If,  for  example,  he  is  pro- 
claiming the  Divine  sovereignty  in  election,  and  a  man 
chooses  so  to  pervert  or  misapply  the  doctrine  as  to  cast 
off  the  matter  of  personal  accountability,  ivhy  doth  God 
yet  find  fault  f  who  hath  resisted  his  will  ?  then  Paul's 
ready  response  is,  nay^  hut,  oh  man,  who  art  thou  that 
repliest  against  God?  If,  e.  g.,  again,  Paul  is  proclaiming 
the  doctrine  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  and  some 
one  reasoning  on  the  mere  principles  of  Nature  (like  our 
infidel,  Bush),  and  knowing  that  the  body  is  decomposed 


32  VANITY   OF   THE   WORLD'S    WISDOM. 

b}^  putrefaction  in  the  grave,  chooses  to  ask,  (Bush's 
question,)  with  what  body  do  they  come?  the  ready  answer 
of  Paul  is,  thou  fool  I  God  giveth  it  a  body  as  it  pleaseth  him. 
It  is  God  with  Paul — not  Nature,  but  God — as  in  the 
text,  in  the  wisdom  of  God. 

The  next  clause  is :  the  world  hy  wisdom  knew  not  God. 
This  was  the  thing  which  Paul  affirms  to  have  come  to 
pass  in  the  wisdom  of  God.  It  was  an  inscrutable  wis- 
dom, and  there  we  must  leave  it.  We  cannot  explain  it. 
Perhaps  our  limited  minds  could  not  understand  it  if  it 
were  explained.  We  must  leave  it  to  the  wisdom  of 
God,  just  where  we  leave  a  hurricane,  an  earthquake,  a 
pestilence,  Herculaneum,  Pompeii,  and  the  graves  of  ten 
thousand  infants  born  only  to  die. 

The  world  hy  ivisdom.  The  word  wisdom  is  not  to  be  taken 
here,  perhaps,  in  the  same  sense  as  in  the  preceding  clause, 
where  the  wisdom  of  God  is  spoken  of.  The  sense  may  be 
— after  that  in  the  wisdom  of  God^  the  world  by  Philosophy 
knew  not  God,  it  pleased  God  to  save  men  in  his  own  way. 

The  wisdom  of  the  tuorld^  therefore,  of  which  Paul 
speaks,  means  simply  human  reason  and  speculation,  in 
which  the  Corinthians  so  much  gloried,  as  they  extolled 
their  "  age  of  improvement,"  as  they  called  it,  and 
wanted  to  introduce  their  improvement  into  the  churches, 
where  Paul  did  not  want  them. 

It  was  not  Philosophy  that  founded  Christianity  or  rea- 
soned it  out — Philosophy  knew  not  God,  and  now  let  Phi- 
losophy keep  her  own  place  and  mind  her  own  business, 
and  leave  Christianity  to  the  wisdom  of  God  which  origin- 
ated it.  This  monition  and  advice  of  Paul  were  not 
more  needed  then  than  they  are  now. 

Ivnew  not  God.  Unquestionably  the  Apostle  means 
by  this  expression,  that  the  world,  with  all  its  boasted 


VANITY   OF  THE  WORLDIs  WISDOM.  33 

reason  and  proud  learning,  had  not  derived  from  all  the 
works  and  Light  of  Nature  any  true  knowledge  of  God, 
or  any  sufficient  principles  of  true  religion.  Men  are 
accustomed  now  to  extol  the  ''Light  of  Nature,"  (as  they 
call  it,)  the  power  of  Keason,  "improvements,"  "the 
march  of  mind."  And  some  Christian  ministers  some- 
times think  to  do  Christianity  a  very  good  service,  by 
philosophizing  it  to  make  it  keep  up  with  the  times.  In 
all  this,  they  do  Christianity  no  other  service  than  rob  it 
of  its  power  by  robbing  it  of  its  peculiarity,  and  do  no 
other  service  to  the  "philosophic  minds"  which  they  say 
they  would  influence,  than  just  to  mislead  them,  and 
keep  them  away  from  true  faith  in  Christ  and  reliance 
on  his  great  atonement. 

It  is  a  historic  fact,  the  world  hy  wisdom  knew  not  God. 
Eeason  had  tried  her  powers  and  failed .  She  was  foiled  in 
every  attempt.  She  knew  not  God.  And  this  simple  fact, 
a  matter  of  history,  of  history  spread  over  centuries,  ought 
to  be  enough  to  silence  for  ever  every  claim  of  Philoso- 
phy to  teach  a  sinner  any  thing  which  could  benefit  his 
soul.  That  Reason  should  now  pretend  to  be  able  to 
make  independent  discoveries  in  religion,  or  dare  to 
arraign  Christian  doctrines  at  her  bar  and  explain  away 
their  old-fashioned  peculiarities,  is  such  a  combination  of 
foolishness  and  impudence  as  is  to  be  found  no  where 
else,  but  in  the  range  of  a  proud,  boastful  and  super- 
ficial Philosophy.  Surely  a  religion  which  knows  not 
God  is  a  very  contemptible  religion.  It  will  do  sinners 
no  good.     But  it  is  all  that  Philosophy  can  furnish. 

But  there  is  another  thing  to  be  noticed  in  this  clause : 
It  is  the  nature  of  the  expression,  knew  not  God.  This 
was  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  matter  with  Paul.  He 
does  not  say,  knew  not  principles^  or  doctrines,  or  deduc- 


84: 

tions,  or  truth  even.  He  sajs^  knew  not  God.  The 
Apostle,  in  all  he  has  written,  shows  in  what  order  he 
was  wont  to  consider  the  things  of  religion.  He  did -not 
begin  with  man  and  reason  upwards — he  began  with 
God  and  reasoned  downwards.  The  world  bj  wisdom 
knew  not  God.  That  was  enough.  That  fact  was  fatal 
to  all  their  schemes.  The  starting  point,  the  heart  of  all 
true  religion,  was  wanting  in  their  speculations;  and 
through  whatever  courses  their  speculations  might  run, 
therefore,  or  on  whatever  landing-place  thej  might  stop, 
both  courses  and  landing-place  would  be  error. 

Men  like  the  Corinthians  are  alive  yet.  It  is  not  un- 
common, yea,  it  is  very  common,  to  find  even  in  the 
Church,  men  who  are  very  much  enamored  with  a  specu* 
lative  Christianity.  They  want  speculative  sermons, 
philosophical,  philological,  natural,  some  importation 
from  Germany,  or  some  invention  more  fit  for  the  patent 
office  than  the  pulpit.  They  are  not  willing  to  begin 
with  God.  As  they  would  know  how  to  be  saved  even, 
they  are  unwilling  to  have  us  tell  them  that  they  must 
obey  only  the  written  Word,  must  take  every  lesson  and 
every  step  by  prayer,  must  turn  directly  unto  God  on 
the  revealed  foundation  of  an  infinite  atonement,  and  by 
faith,  not  in  Philosophy,  but  in  a  revealed  redemption, 
must  learn  to  know  the  only  true  God  and  Jesus  Christ 
whom  he  hath  sent,  for  this  is  eternal  life. 

The  next  clause  proves  this :  it  pleased  God  by  the  fool- 
ishness of  preaching  to  save  them  that  believe. 

It  pleased  God.  No  other  account  can  be  given  of  it. 
All  nature  is  silent.  The  universe  has  not  a  hint  any 
where  in  all  its  matter  and  movements.  It  pleased  God 
— it  came  from  infinite  sovereignty  and  infinite  love. 

By  the  foolishness  of  preaching.     Paul  never  quarrels 


VANITY  OF    THE   WORLD's    WISDOM.  35 

about  names.  He  is  too  mucli  in  earnest  for  that.  If  he 
can  get  the  thing  he  wants,  men  may  call  it  by  what  name 
they  please.  He  consents  even  himself  to  call  the  Gos- 
pel by  a  name  not  at  all  descriptive  of  its  own  nature,  or 
the  views  he  entertained  of  it ;  but  by  the  same  name 
which  the  men  of  the  world  gave  to  it,  and  which  was  ex- 
pressive of  the  views  which  they  entertained  of  it.  On 
this  principle  he  speaks  of  the  foolishness  of  preaching — 
just  because  men  of  the  world  called  it  foolishness.  In 
another  place  he  calls  it  the  foolishness  of  God,  and  says, 
the  foolishness  of  God  is  wiser  than  meii.  And  he  says,  too, 
God  hath  chosen  the  foolish  things  of  the  ivorld  to  confound 
the  wise.  In  another  place  he  says,  the  natural  man  re- 
ceiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  because  they  are 
foolishness  unto  him.  Paul,  therefore,  calls  the  utterance 
of  the  Gospel,  the  foolishness  of  preaching,  just  because 
other  men  called  it  so ;  and  the  man  without  any  re- 
ligion is  apt  to  esteem  it  such,  if  the  preaching  will  not 
take  his  speculative  turn  and  put  on  the  literary  taste 
which  suits  his  refined  ears.  It  was  foolishness  to  the 
Greeks  to  speak  of  Christ  crucified,  of  the  great  atone- 
ment, because  their  philosophy  was  dumb,  utterly  and 
for  ever  dumb,  on  the  whole  subject.  Eeason  could  not 
touch  it.  She  could  not  take  a  step  in  it,  or  utter  a  syl- 
lable on  the  whole  matter.  The  Greeks  might  call  the 
fundamental  doctrine  of  the  Gospel  foolishness  if  they 
pleased,  they  might  reject  the  atonement  of  a  crucified 
Christ ;  but  Paul  assures  them  that  in  this  way  God  was 
pleased  to  save  them  that  believe.  Thus  the  Apostle 
brings  round  the  whole  matter  to  faith — just  to  faith. 
No  man  need  speculate.  No  Philosophy  would  do  him 
any  good ; — no  efforts  of  a  mustered  and  proud  reason 
would  land  him  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 


36  VANITY   OF   THE    WORLD'S   WISDOM. 

The  sum  of  the  whole  matter  then  is,  that  all  the 
efforts  of  human  reason  are  utterly  insuffi.cient  for  at- 
taining the  knowledge  of  religion  ;  and  after  the  lapse  of 
centuries  had  demonstrated  their  insufficiency,  God  gave 
the  Gospel  to  do  for  man  what  Philosophy  could  not 
do — to  reveal  to  man  what  Keason  could  not  discover, 
and  by  a  peculiar  system  to  lead  those  to  eternal  life, 
who  would  trust  the  Bible  to  lead  them  there.  Lay 
your  pride  in  the  dust.  Dismiss  your  vain  pbilosophy. 
Cease  to  dishonor  Christianity  by  attempting  to  conform 
it  to  a  fashionable  literature.  Obey  it.  Flee  to  Christ. 
Best  on  the  great  redemption ;  for  it  pleases  God  to  save 
them  that  believe. 

IL  We  proposed  to  explain  and  demonstrate  this 
great  principle  of  tbe  text. 

The  submission  of  reason  to  faith,  is  one  of  tbe  dif&- 
cult  things  for  human  pride  and  depravity  to  endure. 
Science  is  not  to  be  despised.  Human  reasonings  are 
not  to  be  undervalued.  But  though  they  are  of  vast 
moment  when  they  are  confined  to  their  proper  place, 
they  become  s.ources  of  error  and  danger  when  they  are 
extended  beyond  it.  This  is  one  of  the  present  dangers 
of  the  Church.  The  boast  of  human  progress  leads  many 
a  one  of  the  proud  boasters  to  undervalue  the  old  truths 
of  Divine  Bevelation.  Under  the  pretense  that  philoso- 
pby  and  reason  have  made  great  advances,  revelation 
becomes  pushed  out  of  its  place — Divine  doctrines  are 
proclaimed  as  obsolete  and  behind  the  age.  We  pro- 
pose to  defend  the  sense  of  the  text.  We  propose  to 
show  that  the  wisdom  of  men,  unaided  by  Divine  Kevela- 
tion,  can  learn  nothing  in  religion,  and,  therefore,  that 
speculation  is  out  of  its  place,  when  it  brings  in  its  inno- 
vations, and  discards  our  old  doctrines.     We  name  par- 


VANITY  OF  THE  WORLD'S  WISDOM.  37 

ticular  items  :    A  future  state.    Human  duty.    Tlie  char- 
acter of  God.     The  pardon  of  a  sinner. 

1.  "We  call  your  attention  to  the  matter  of  a  future 
state.  What  does  mere  Philosophy  know  about  it? 
what  can  Eeason  alone  teach  you  ?  Eeason,  you  know, 
must  have  some  materials  to  work  with — some  grounds 
to  go  upou' — some  premises  of  truth  to  start  with.  But 
in  respect  to  another  world,  another  life  beyond  this, 
w^hat  materials  has  she  got?  what  ground  to  stand 
upon?  what  sure  premises  of  truth  to  start  with?  A 
dark,  deep  gulf  separates  this  .world  from  another.  We 
can  not  pass  it — we  can  not  see  over  it.  From  that  other 
world,  (if  there  is  one,)  no  man  can  bring  forth,  with  all 
his  philosophy,  a  single  fact  for  his  philosophy  to  work 
upon.  Our  question  is  about  another  world :  is  there 
one  ?  Show  me  a  fact  to  prove  it.  Show  me  one  of  its 
inhabitants — one  of  its  productions — one  of  its  opera- 
tions— one  of  its  any  thing  that  shall  constitute  to  me  a 
demonstration  that  such«a  world  exists.  If  Philosophy- 
will  only  furnish  me  one  solitary  material,  one  single 
fact,  clear  and  unquestionable,  which  shows  me  that 
there  is  such  a  world  beyond  this ;  then  I  shall  feel  that 
I  have  got  something  to  begin  with — and  I  consent  to 
take  that  fact  and  make  the  most  of  it  in  reasoning  from 
it  to  reach  something  else.  But  Eeason  has  no  such  fact. 
She  has  nothing  to  start  upon.  She  has  got  no  foothold 
upon  the  shores  of  eternity,  (if  there  is  one.) 

If  you  take  up  any  of  the  materials  or  existences  of 
this  world,  you  have  a  perfect  right,  I  admit,  to  reason 
from  them  to  conclusions  which  lie  in  this  world.  But 
how  can  jovl  reason  upon  them  to  reach  conclusions 
which  lie  in  another.  You  yourself  admit,  (for  j^ou 
cannot  deny,)  that  that  other  world  is  most  wrilike  this — 


S8  VANITY   OF  THE  WORLD'S  WISDOM. 

tliat  vast  and  mysterious  clianges  are  to  transpire  before 
jou  shall  be  an  inhabitant  of  another  world.  Your 
blood  is  to  stagnate — your  breath  is  to  stop — your  im- 
material spirit  is  to  come  out  of  its  earthly  temple — it  is 
to  have  new  powers  of  perception  given  to  it,  (if  its 
future  existence  is  to  be  of  any  value,)  for  its  organs  of 
perception,  its  sight,  its  hearing,  and  all  its  instruments 
of  perception  and  knowledge,  are  left  behind  it.  How 
shall  it  talk,  to  tell  other  spirits  what  it  thinks  ?  How 
shall  it  hear,  to  receive  any  knowledge  or  idea  from 
them  ?  How  shall  it  become  acquainted  with  either 
matter  or  spirit,  or  whatever  it  is  that  goes  to  make  up 
the  world  to  come  ?  And  if  such  wonderful  changes  are 
to  take  place,  how  can  you  reason  from  any  thing  here  to 
reach  any  certain  and  indubitable  conclusion  about  any 
thing  there?  How  can  you  be  certain  that  there  is 
any  thing  there,  and  that  the  spirit  itself  does  not  become 
extinct,  instead  of  passing  into  another  state  of  exist- 
ence— a  state  confessedly  mystel-ious  and  inexplicable  ? 

How  shall  Keason  demonstrate  that  the  soul  survives 
the  death  of  the  body  ?  There  is  so  close  a  connection 
betwixt  all  the  known  operations  of  the  soul  and  the 
operations  of  the  body,  that  when  one  set  of  operations 
ceases,  it  would  seem  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the 
other  set  of  operations  ceases  also,  and  all  the  philoso- 
phers in  the  world  cannot  furnish  a  particle  of  certain 
proof  to  the  contrar}^  A  body  is  in  perfect  health,  and 
the  mind  is  regular :  in  a  few  days  that  body  is  dis- 
ordered, and  the  mind  suffers  more  or  less  of  disorder 
also.  If  anger  ruffles  the  mind,  it  also  ruffles  the  blood. 
If  fever  burns  in  the  veins,  the  brain  is  soon  disturbed, 
and  the  mind  loses  its  regularity.  If  melancholy  settles 
upon  the  soul,   the  appetite  is  irregular,  the  blood  slow, 


VANITY  OF  THE  WORLDS  WISDOM.  39 

the  body  becomes  sluggisb  and  lean.  As  years  creep 
on,  and  the  joints  become  stiff,  the  pulse  low,  the 
muscles  rigid,  the  blood  cold ;  the  soul,  at  the  same  time, 
true  to  her  sympathy,  puts  on  the  equal  signals  of 
decay — ^the  memory  fails,  the  imagination  becomes 
inactive,  the  wings  of  fancy  are  folded  or  broken,  and 
even  the  judgment  becomes  feeble  and  loses  its  sound- 
ness. And,  finally,  death  comes  and  dissolves  the  body 
to  dust — and  now,  what  does  Reason  say  ?  how  can  she 
demonstate  that  that  soul,  which,  all  along  from  infancy 
to  age,  was  affected  so  intimately  with  every  fortune  of 
the  body,  shall  not  be  dissipated  into  nothing  when  the 
body  crumbles  back  into  dust?  or,  at  least,  when  the 
body  returns  again  to  form  a  part  of  its  original  earth, 
how  can  all  the  philosophers  in  the  world  give  any  cer- 
tain proof  that  the  soul  does  not  return  to  its  original,  to 
be  absorbed  and  lost  in  it,  retaining  no  more  individ- 
uality than  the  crumbled  body  that  mingles  with  the 
common  earth? 

You  perceive  Reason  can  do  nothing  with  the  question 
of  a  future  existence — she  has  no  materials  to  work  with. 
She  cannot  give  an  item  of  certainty  whether  the  soul 
survives,  or  becomes  involved  in  the  ruins  of  matter. 
Reason  cannot  bridge  the  gulf  that  lies  betwixt  this 
world  and  another. 

But  the  philosopher  tells  us  there  are  some  grounds  of 
probability,  if  not  of  certainty,  that  the  soul  shall  survive 
death  and  inhabit  another  world.  And  this  probability, 
this  perhaps,  this  lean  and  trembling  peradventure,  is 
Philosophy's  security  for  another  life !  This  is  her  foot- 
hold on  eternity !  I  appeal  to  the  wants  and  aspirations 
of  any  soul  that  ever  lived,  if  this  is  not  an  insult  to  it. 
What !    die  on  a  probability  ?  my  soul  staked  on  a  per- 


40  VANITY   OF  THE   WORLD's  WISDOM. 

haps !  my  whole  eternity  hanging  on  a  mere,  uncertain 
probabihty !  If  that  foundation  meets  the  wants  of  any 
human  soul,  that  fact  alone  would  make  me  doubt 
whether  such  a  soul  can  be  immortal :  if  it  has  no  more 
reason  in  it,  than  to  be  willing  to  die  on  a  bed  of  '■'•  proh- 
ability ^''^  it  seems  hardly  worthy  of  an  immortal  exist- 
ence, or  reasonable  to  suppose  it  shall  have  it. 

But,  says  the  reasoner,  the  soul  has  some  qualities 
about  it — qualities  of  reasoning,  of  enjoyment,  of  ad- 
vancement indefinitely  in  knowlege  and  felicity — which 
would  seem  to  make  it  worth  preserving  for  ever.  What 
does  this  mean  ?  Worth  whose  preserving?  Who  wants 
it  to  live  in  eternity  ?  Who  needs  it,  and  would  suffer  a 
loss  if  it  should  cease  to  exist  ?  You  talk  of  God  as  if 
he  were  a  man,  and  would  lose  some  of  his  property  or 
advantage  if  a  soul  should  go  into  non-existence !  Let 
it  go,  and  God  has  lost  nothing.  He  can  instantly  make 
another  soul  as  valuable,  as  noble,  and  with  as  high  and 
far-reaching  aspirations.  You  cannot  reason  for  God. 
For  aught  you  know,  the  infinite  Creator  has  some  mys- 
terious purposes  to  answer  by  the  soul's  existence  here 
for  a  little  while ;  and  when  those  purposes  have  been 
accomplished,  Avill  annihilate  it.  We  solemnly  protest 
against  your  reasoning  about  God  as  if  he  were  a  man— 
reasoning  that  something  is  so  valuable  to  him  that  he 
will  take  care  to  preserve  it !  Reason  cannot  touch  the 
matter.  Your  very  probability  trembles  and  shrinks 
into  a  corner  before  that  great  truth,  the  infinitude  of 
God,  the  incomprehensibility  of  his  plans  and  purposes. 

But  Philosophy  (unwittingly,  I  believe,  very  often 
undesignedly,  not  knowing  that  she  is  giving  the  first 
lesson  to  make  her  disciples  materialists,  or  some  other 
kind  of  infidels)  does  not  like  to  have  the  nature  of  God 


VANITY   OF  THE   WORLD'S   WISDOM.  41 

come  in,  and  therefore  she  takes  her  appeal  to  the 
''nature  of  things."  She  says,  e.  ^.,  the  soul  must  be 
immortal  because  it  is  immaterial,  and  therefore  indivisi- 
ble, and  therefore  indestructible.  She  says  we  have  no 
idea  of  destruction  but  by  division — as  a  tree  is  destroyed 
when  it  rots  down — as  a  rock  is  destroyed  when  the 
hghtnings,  the  frosts,  the  winds  and  rains  have  shivered 
it  into  pieces,  and  allowed  it  to  be  rock  no  longer — as 
the  human  body  is  destroyed  when  the  jDutrefaction  of 
the  grave  has  dissolved  it,  and  divided  it  into  particles 
among  the  common  dust.  Division,  she  says,  is  indis- 
pensable to  destruction,  and  as  the  soul  is  indivisible  it 
must  be  indestructible.  How  can  she  prove  that  divis- 
ion is  necessary  to  destruction  ?  She  cannot.  It  is  an 
assumption.  For  aught  we  know,  any  existence,  body 
or  spirit,  can  as  easily  perish  all  together  as  perish  by 
division.  Yea,  division,  as  far  as  Keason  knows,  can 
make  nothing  perish.  Divide  your  tree.  Has  any  of  it 
perished?  Divide  it  again.  Has  any  of  it  perished? 
Keep  on  with  your  division  till  the  minuteness  of  the 
particles  makes  further  division  impracticable.  Has  any 
of  it  perished  now  ?  Not  a  particle.  Every  atom  exists 
somewhere,  or  at  least  you  cannot  prove  the  contrary. 
You  said  the  soul  must  be  immortal,  because  it  is  indi- 
visible; but  now  it  appears  your  argument  does  not 
even  touch  the  question  of  perdition  at  all — or  if  it  does, 
you  have  as  much  proved  the  eternity  of  matter  as  of 
mind,  and  so  far  established  an  equality  betwixt  the 
two.  This  is  the  result  of  appealing  from  the  nature  of 
God  to  "the  nature  of  things,"  as  Philosophy  is  fond  of 
doing — and,  I  must  add,  heresy  is  fond  of  copying  her 
example. 

This  appealing  from  faith  to  "  the  natin-o  of  things," 


42  VANITY   OF  THE  WORLD's  WISDOM. 

as  it  is  called,  is  a  very  delightful  affair  to  two  classes  of 
minds — superficial  ones,  and  skeptical  ones.  It  is  not 
the  nature  of  the  soul  that  makes  it  immortal.  Matter  is 
as  much  eternal  by  its  nature  as  the  soul  is  eternal  by 
its  nature.  Neither  of  them  has  any  thing  wrapped  up 
in  its  nature  which  secures  it  an  immortality. 

The  argument  for  our  future  existence,  which  is  taken 
from  the  spirituol  nature  of  the  soul,  is  another  of  the 
attempts  of  the  wisdom  of  the  world.  We  need  not 
expand  the  argument.  To  state  it  will  be  quite  enough. 
It  is  this :  The  soul  must  survive  the  dissolution  of  the 
body,  because  the  soul  is  capable  of  ideas,  conceptions, 
thoughts ;  and  a  thing  of  such  capabilities  is  altogether 
superior  to  matter,  and  can  not,  therefore,  be  involved  in 
the  dissolution  of  the  body.  What  an  argument !  How 
do  you  know  it  is  superior  to  matter  ?  It  is  to  you,  but 
how  do  you  know  it  is  to  God?  It  seems  so  to  you, 
but  who  can  tell  how  it  seems  to  Him  ?  Your  reason 
knows  nothing  about  it.  This  is  one  link  in  the  argu- 
ment. But  there  is  another.  Beasts  think.  Nobody 
would  venture  to  affirm  that  they  are  mere  machines, 
self-moved.  What,  then,  becomes  of  them  when  they 
die,  on  your  ground  that  nothing  capable  of  ideas  and 
thoughts  can  perish?  Ah!  the  reasoner,  full  of  his 
philosophy,  stands  in  his  study  among  his  books,  and 
specimens,  and  apparatus,  and  contemplates  his  hold  on 
future  existence.  He  says :  I  know  this  hody  will  die. 
It  is  doomed  to  the  dust,  and  cannot  avoid  it.  It  will 
be  taken  to  pieces — dust  returning  to  dust,  and  ashes  to 
ashes.  But  within  it  there  is  an  indestructible  principle. 
It  must  be  indestructible,  because  it  thinks — it  is  spiritual 
— it  has  ideas  and  conceptions,  and  therefore  qualities  of 
inconceivable  value,  far  too  precious  to  perish.     So  he 


43 

meditates  and  reasons.  Then  let  him  leave  his  books, 
and  go  out  into  the  fields  among  the  herds  that  crop  the 
grass,  and  meditate  and  reason  there.  This  ox,  says  he, 
this  ox — yes,  I  know  his  body  will  die ;  it  is  doomed  to 
the  dust,  and  cannot  avoid  it.  But  within  him,  this  ox 
has  an  indestructible  principle — it  must  be  indestructible, 
because  it  thinks,  it  has  ideas  and  conceptions,  and 
therefore  qualities  of  inconceivable  value,  too  precious, 
far  too  precious,  to  perish.  This  ox  and  I,  precious 
creatures — this  ox  and  I  are  the  children  of  immortality, 
destined  to  an  imperishable  existence  in  another  life. 
This  is  the  argument  of  spiritual  value.  If  it  is  good  in 
the  library,  among  the  books ;  it  is  just  as  good  in  the 
field,  among  the  cattle.  The  proud  reasoner,  therefore, 
finds  what  level  his  immortality  stands  upon.  As  an 
immortal  being,  to  survive  death,  and  live  beyond  it  in 
some  future  state,  he  stands  on  the  same  level,  according 
to  his  own  argument,  as  a  beast.  With  a  mere  philoso- 
phy, after  all  her  thirsting  for  a  future  existence,  and 
attempts  to  demonstrate  it,  darkness  and  perplexity  hang 
round  the  bed  of  death,  and  rest  like  an  ocean  of  mid- 
night over  all  the  eternity  beyond  it.  The  tvorld  by  wis- 
dom knew  not  God. 

The  doctrine  of  Immortality  which  the  Bible  advances, 
is  not  founded  on  any  metaphysical  ideas — not  on  any 
ideas  of  valuable  qualities  in  the  soul,  even.  Far  from 
it.  Our  revelation  founds  the  doctrine  on  a  basis  firm 
enough  to  sustain  all  that  rests  upon  it.  That  basis  is 
simply  the  will  of  God.  I  recollect  no  other  idea  than 
this  in  the  whole  Bible.  The  Bible  assures  us  of  a 
future  existence,  because  such  is  the  will  of  our  Creator. 
This  is  all.  Immortality  hangs  solely  on  the  naked  will 
of  God. 


44  VANITY   OF  THE  WORLD'S  WISDOM. 

The  disciple  of  Christ,  therefore,  is  not  condemned  to 
tremble  amid  a  few  items  of  probability,  gathered  from 
the  nature  of  things,  every  one  of  which  sinks  into 
nothing  the  moment  the  mind  recurs  to  the  nature  of 
God,  which  gives  him  an  infinite  supremacy  of  will 
above  all  that  is  or  can  be  in  the  nature  of  things.  The 
disciple  of  Christ  is  not  compelled  to  float  and  fluctuate 
betwixt  hope  and  fear,  doubt  and  confidence,  and  be 
tossed  about  upon  a  shifting  ocean  of  probabilities,  and 
possibilities,  and  conjectures,  at  one  moment  seeming  to 
have  got  foothold  upon  the  rock,  and  the  next  moment 
dashed  ofP  again  by  some  wave  of  uncertainty,  or  some 
dark  billow  of  doubt.  The  disciple  of  Christ  rests  his 
immortality  upon  the  rock.  Such  is  the  revealed  will 
of  God. 

2.  We  turn  from  human  duration  to  human  duty. 
Every  body  will  admit  there  is  such  a  thing  as  duty. 
Every  reasonable  man  acknowledges  that  religion  has 
an  intimate  connection  with  it.  It  is  an  important  part 
of  religious  instruction  to  tell  us  what  our  conduct 
should  be. 

Now,  on  this  important  matter,  how  far  can  the  unas- 
sisted wisdom  of  man  go.  She  can  not  go  into  eternity, 
certainly,  for  her  materials,  for'we  have  just  seen  that 
she  can  not  reach  eternity  with  even  her  conclusions. 
She  must  take  her  stand  here  upon  the  earth,  then,  and 
from  what  is  visible  around  her,  she  must  find  facts  to 
teach  what  is  duty,  to  teach  it  in  the  way  of  a  reasonable 
conclusion. 

We  admit,  she  may  do  something  by  a  mere  philoso- 
phizing. Man  is  a  social  being.  As  such,  obligations 
rest  upon  him.  Truth  is  beneficial  to  societ}^,  and  there- 
fore men  ought  to  speak  truth.     Kindness  is  beneficial, 


VANITY   OF  THE   WORLD'S   WISDOM.  45 

and  therefore  men  ouglit  to  be  kind.  Gratitude  is  bene- 
ficial, for  if  men  will  be  "ungrateful,  they  will  discourage 
a  beneficence  and  charity  which  are  very  much  needed 
in  such  a  world  as  this ;  and  therefore  men  ought  to  be 
grateful.  Thus  Eeason  can  argue  for  a  little  way,  we 
admit ;  and  we  have  no  disposition  to  quarrel  with  her 
conclusions.  But  there  is  a  weak  point  in  her  argument- 
ation, and  there  is  a  spot  beyond  which  she  can  not  con- 
duct us  ;  and  beyond  that  spot  (it  may  be)  lie  our  most 
important  duties  and  interests.     Let  us  see. 

There  is  a  weak  point  in  her  argumentation.  Just 
notice  on  what  her  argumentation  turns.  It  turns  on 
benefit — as  truth  is  beneficial,  gratitude  is  beneficial, 
kindness  is  beneficial,  to  society ;  therefore  truth,  grati- 
tude and  kindness  are  duties.     This  is  the  reasoning. 

But  now,  let  me  pu.t  a  very  plain  question  to  this 
tm'sdom  of  ike  world:  May  I  do  whatever  I  deem  benefi- 
cial to  society?  or  if  I  may  not  be  the  judge  of  what  is 
beneficial,  who  shall  be  ?  If  benefit  or  utility  is  to  be 
the  criterion  of  duty — ^here  is  a  man  a  great  deal  richer 
than  any  man  ought  to  be  for  the  good  of  society.  He 
has  vast  possessions — vast  amounts  of  lands,  houses  and 
gold.  But  he  keeps  all  to  himself;  he  gives  away 
nothing ;  he  lives  at  ease,  though  very  well  able  to 
work ;  he  receives  rents  which  his  tenants  can  very  ill 
afibrd  to  pay,  and  which  he  can  very  well  dispense 
with ;  he  rides  in  his  carriage,  though  strong  and  vigor- 
ous enough  to  go  on  foot ;  he  has  vast  grounds  around 
him,  which  he  keeps  covered  with  a  forest,  and  which 
might  furnish  food  enough  to  feed  a  hundred  poor  fami- 
lies around  him,  if  he  would  allow  them  to  go  in  with 
axe  and  cut  away  the  trees,  and  bring  the  plow,  and  the 
hoe,  and  the  sickle,  to  produce  and  secure  a  crop.     But 


46  VANITY  OF  THE  WORLD'S  WISDOM. 

he  will  not  allow  it.  He  will  neither  do  it  himself,  nor 
allow  them  to  do  it.  Besides,  though  he  has  got  a  thou- 
sand-fold more  than  he  needs — ^more  than  he  uses — ho 
is  growing  richer  and  richer  every  day,  and  never  does 
any  other  good  with  his  riches  than  to  live  at  his  ease, 
and  perhaps  in  a  luxury  which  will  ruin  his  health  and 
shorten  his  life.  Manifestly,  it  is  not  useful,  not  "bene- 
ficial to  society,"  that  this  man  should  have  so  much 
wealth,  particularly  when  he  makes  such  a  use  of  it. 
May  I,  therefore,  just  take  some  of  it  away  from  him  ? 
May  I  enter  his  grounds,  and  cut  down  his  trees,  and 
sow  wheat,  and  plant  corn,  and  thus  turn  his  useless 
forest  into  a  useful  field  ?  Or  if  I  may  not  do  it  alone, 
may  Society  do  it  ?  May  the  government  of  the  State, 
just  for  the  general  good,  lay  hands  upon  his  wealth, 
and  divide  it  among  those  that  need  it,  and  leave  him 
only  such  a  portion  as  they  judge  best,  on  the  whole,  for 
him  to  possess?  If  this  philosophy  of  "utility"  says 
"720,"  I  ask,  why  not?  Her  argument  turned  on  the 
point  of  benefit,  of  utilitj^ ;  and  since  it  would  be  benefi- 
cial to  have  this  old  miser's  wealth  divided  among  the 
people,  where  it  would  do  some  good,  why  not  divide  it, 
since  he  never  will  ?  How  far  is  this  argument  of  philo- 
sophical utility  to  go?  where  shall  it  stop?  who  shall 
enforce  its  conclusions  ?  You  perceive  there  is  a  weak 
point  in  it — there  are  several  weak  points.  And  I  have 
never  yet  heard  of  any  natural  religion  which  could 
ever  suit  itself  in  the  application  of  its  own  reasonings, 
even  on  mere  social  duties  and  obligations. 

The  ancients,  full  of  the  world's  wisdom,  tried  it. 
First,  they  maintained  that  a  private  man  had  no  right 
to  deprive  such  an  afiluent  man  of  his  affluence,  because 
that  affluence  had  been  of  no  detriment  to  any  one  private 


VANITY  OF  THE  WORLD'S  WISDOM.  47 

man  in  particular,  and,  because,  if  private  men  should 
undertake  to  do  it,  they  would  be  sure  to  quarrel  among 
themselves  in  the  division  of  the  spoils.  So  they  con- 
cluded society  or  government  might  do  it;  and  then 
kings,  who  had  power  enough,  took  advantage  of  the 
philosophical  conclusion,  and  very  beneficently  robbed 
the  rich,  just  for  the  general  good. 

But  when  it  was  discovered  by  these  ancient  philoso- 
phers (who  tried  to  find  out  duty  by  the  mere  light  of 
nature)  that  the  argument  of  utility  had  a  difficulty 
about  it,  because  there  were  many  actions  which  might 
be  useful  and  still  were  very  objectionable,  they  invented 
another  criterion  of  duty  to  join  with  this  utility,  and 
thus  aimed  to  make  a  perfect  rule  of  moral  duty.  They 
said,  an  action  must  not  only  be  "beneficial"  in  order  to 
be  right,  but  it  must  also,  at  the  same  time,  "  look  well ;" 
it  must  be  "decorous:"  they  had  their  "  t6  Tr^jenor,"  and 
their  "  t6  ayaddf^^^  the  beneficial  and  the  beautiful.  They 
dragged  in  this  idea  of  beauty  to  help  their  philosophy 
out  of  a  "  useful"  difficulty.  They  found  that  human 
nature  possessed  within  itself  something  which  revolted 
from  many  of  the  conclusions  to  which  the  mere  argu- 
ment of  utility  would  lead.  It  might  be  useful  to  de- 
prive a  rich  man  of  his  wealth  when  he  had  too  much 
for  the  general  good,  but  then  it  did  not  "  look  well^^^ 
when  he  had  committed  no  other  offense  than  to  be  in- 
dustrious, and  ingenious,  and  frugal,  and  thus  get  rich. 
It  might  be  useful  (and  this  is  their  own  example)  for  a 
child  to  take  away  the  life  of  a  parent  when  too  old  and 
infirm  to  do  any  good  in  the  world,  but  they  confessed 
there  was  something  in  such  an  action  which  did  not 
"look  well" — was  not  decorous.  And,  therefore,  in 
order  to  make  a  perfect  rule  of  duty,  they  just  joined 


48  VANITY  OF  THE  WORLD's   WISDOM. 

the  beneficial  and  tlie  beautiful  together ;  an  action  was 
right  where  it  was  both  "  useful"  and  "  decorous."  This 
was  their  religion  of  nature. 

But  this,  again,  was  a  very  troublesome  rule  to  apply. 
Whose  eyes  should  be  used,  in  order  to  tell  what  did 
"  look  well,"  was  a  difficult  question  which  they  could 
not  solve  very  clearly ;  but  when  they  finally  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  what  looked  well  in  every  body's 
eyes  must  certainly  be  beautiful,  every  body  chose  to 
think  war,  slavery,  and  suicide,  and  revenge,  looked  well 
enough  to  be  free  from  any  moral  blame.  Eeason  made 
bad  work,  you  perceive,  even  in  Greece  and  Kome,  in 
teaching  morality  ;  the  world  hj  luisdom  knew  not  God. 

I  am  quite  willing  that  the  natural  religionist  should 
make  the  most  of  it,  as  he  finds  that  man  carries  along 
with  him  in  his  own  soul  something  which  compels  him 
to  respect  virtue  and  contemn  vice.  But  as  he  attempts 
to  employ  this  fact,  he  labors  under  two  difficulties  : 

First.  This  fact  only  proves  there  are  such  things  as 
virtue  and  vice  without  telling  us  what  they  are,  so  that 
we  are  none  the  wiser  about  our  duties  and  obligations 
than  we  were  before ;  and. 

Second.  Where  shall  we  stojD  when  we  attempt  to 
reason  unto  righteousness  from  the  innate  feelings  of 
man  ?  If,  in  spite  of  all  my  sinful  indulgence,  I  am  still 
compelled  to  respect  virtue,  and,  therefore,  you  draw  the 
conclusion  that  my  Creator  designed  I  should  be  virtu- 
ous, because  he  compels  me  to  respect  it  by  an  implanta- 
tion of  his  own,  let  me  apply  your  species  of  reasoning 
to  another  implantation  within  me,  thus :  If,  in  spite  of 
all  my  aims  to  be  virtuous,  I  have  that  within  me  which 
still  makes  me  love  vice,  may  I,  therefore,  draw  the  con- 
clusion that  the  Author  of  my  being  will  never  punish 


VANITY   OF  THE   ^^ORLD'S   WISDOM.  49 

me  for  obeying  tlie  impulses  of  his  own  implantation — 
the  dispositions  with  which  he  w^as  born  ?  If  you  reason 
from  one  implantation,  why  may  not  I  reason  from  an- 
other? Is  not  the  God  of  my  nature,  the  God  of  my  re- 
ligion also  ?  Will  the  God  of  religion  forbid  that  con- 
duct to  which  the  God  of  my  nature  inclines  me  ?  and  if 
I  follow  the  inclinations  which  come  from  the  God  of 
nature,  am  I  to  be  punished  for  so  doing  by  the  God  of 
religion?  Thus,  you  perceive,  that  y/hen  Ave  would 
apply  the  argumentation  of  our  natural  religionists,  it 
just  leads  us  into  immorality  as  fast  as  into  good  morals  ; 
or,  at  least,  it  brings  us  into  a  difSculty  from  which  phi- 
losophy can  never  extricate  us.  Tlie  world  hy  wisdom 
knows  very  little.  Philosophy  can  not  reconcile  the  God 
of  nature  and  the  God  of  virtue. 

But,  I  spoke  of  a  limitation.  Suppose  you  could  find  out 
by  your  philosophy,  the  duties  which  lie  upon  you  in  re- 
gard to  one  another,  and  as  inhabitants  of  this  world;  what 
can  your  philosophy,  and  light  of  nature,  and  reason, 
teach  you  about  your  duty  to  your  God,  and  as  a  being 
moving  into  eternity  to  meet  him  ?  I  think  it  reasonable 
to  suppose  these  latter  duties  are  the  most  important. 
God  is  a  more  important  being  than  my  fellow  creature. 
He  made  me,  as  my  fellow  did  not.  He  owns  me,  body 
and  spirit,  as  my  fellow  does  not.  Therefore,  my  obliga- 
tions respecting  him,  who  can  dash  me  to  pieces  when 
he  will,  surely  rise  above  any  obligations  to  my  neighbor 
over  the  way,  who,  at  most,  can  but  Idll  the  hody^  and 
after  that  hath  no  more  that  he  can  do.  Tell  me,  then,  by 
the  lamp  of  your  reason,  wdiat  duties  do  I  owe  to  my 
God  ?  How,  where,  will  he  punish  me  if  I  omit  them  ? 
Where,  how,  when,  how  long,  will  he  reward  me  if  I 
perform   them?     Shall   I   worship    him?     How  shall  I 

3 


50  VANITY   OF   THE   WORLD'S   WISDOM. 

worsliip  him  ?  How  shall  I  serve  hhn?  Where  zs  the 
code  of  mj  duty  ?  Show  me  the  rock  on  whose  engrav- 
ing I  may  read  it.  Show  me  the  grass,  the  field,  the 
sky,  the  cloud,  the  sea,  the  clod  of  earth,  the  ayiy  tiling^ 
which  shall  answer  any  one  of  these  questions,  and  un- 
fold to  me  the  most  important  of  all  duties  and  obliga- 
tions which  rest  upon  me.  Natural  Religion  can  not  do 
it.  However  she  may  be  able  to  grope  her  way  along 
among  men,  by  some  little  twinklings  of  light  flung  out 
just  to  render  her  darkness  visible,  she  can  not  take  one 
single  step  towards  God,  without  walking  right  into  the 
bosom  of  a  double  midnight  1  The  loorld  hy  wisdom  can 
only  grope  in  darkness  in  respect  to  the  most  moment- 
ous obligations. 

3.  From  duiy^  we  turn  to  the  character  of  God.  Men 
who  reason  from  the  mere  Light  of  Nature,  certainly 
present  to  us  some  very  pleasant  ideas.  They  tell  us  of 
the  order  of  this  vast  universe — how  one  star  does  not 
dash  upon  another — how  day  and  night  succeed  each 
other,  exactly  adapted,  the  one  to  our  necessity  for  labor, 
and  the  other  to  our  necessity  for  repose — how  the  eye, 
made  to  love  beauty,  may  riot  upon  a  landscape,  upon 
the  evening  cloud,  upon  the  tints  and  touches  of  the 
flower  garden,  and  how  the  ear,  formed  for  melody,  may 
teach  us  to  say — ■ 


"Sweet  is  the  laugli  of  girls,  the  song  of  birds, 
The  voice  of  children  and  then*  earliest  words.' 


All  very  pleasant :  all  very  good  poetry.     And  the  con- 
clusion from  all  this  is,  that  Ood  is  a  henevoJent  heing. 

But  there  are  some  difaculties  standing  in  the  way  of 
this  argumentation.      Look  at  it.     A  large,  very  large 


VANITY   OF   THE   WOELD's   WISDOM.  51 

portion  of  mankind  are  so  poor,  so  oppressed,  so  hungry, 
or  so  dissatisfied,  that  tliey  never  stop  to  enjoy  the 
beauties  you  mention;  and  they  would  be  very  well 
satisfied  to  have  you  remove  the  beauties  of  the  land- 
scape, the  tints  of  the  flowers,  and  the  melody  of  the 
bird's  song,  if  you  would  give  them  an  atmosphere  never 
loaded  with  the  pestilence,  food  that  never  deranges 
while  it  supports,  a  body  never  tormented  with  pain, 
and  keep  their  hearts  from  being  pierced  through  with 
many  sorrows.  They  would  sjoare  you  all  the  poetry,  if 
you  would  take  all  their  pain.  If  this  world  does  pre- 
sent to  our  view  some  things  which  would  seem  to  prove 
God  to  be  a  beneficent  Being,  it  also  presents  other 
things,  Avhich,  to  mere  Eeason's  eje,  seem  to  conflict 
with  that  conclusion.  To  consider  human  disappoint- 
ments^ human  pains,  and  sorrows,  and  dissatisfactions, 
how  few  are  happy,  how  many  are  miserable,  how  often 
we  are  incapacitated  in  old  age  to  enjoy  the  things  for 
which  we  labored  and  studied,  and  met  the  buffetings  of 
the  world  through  all  our  youth  and  manhood — and  then 
to  consider  how  death  robs  us  of  all,  bows  every  head  to 
the  dust,  and  brings  us  to  the  spot  where  the  bones  are 
scattered  at  the  grave's  mouth — I  say,  to  consider  these 
things  is  enough  to  make  a  serious  doubt  with  a  reason- 
able man,  (who  has  not  the  Bible,)  whether  it  was  a  benev- 
olent disposition  or  an  opposite  one,  which  inclined  the 
Author  of  our  being  to  bring  us  into  existence.  How 
can  the  world^s  wisdom  solve  this  doubt  ?  how  prove  Grod 
benevolent?  at  least,  how  c?i5prove  that  this  attribute  of 
God  is  very  imperfect — disprove  that  God  is  of  a  mixed 
disposition,  sometimes  delighting  in  our  happiness  in 
years  of  plenty  and  health,  and  at  other  times  delighting 
in  our  misery  in  years  of  pestilence  and  famine  ?     The 


62  VANITY   OF  THE  WOHLD'S  WISDOM. 

world  hy  wisdom  knows  not   God.      His   character   is   a 
mystery  to  Philosopliy,  if  not  a  contradiction. 

Take  any  other  attribute  of  God — yea,  any  other,  and 
mere  natural  religion  can  get  along  no  better.  To  see 
here,  unjust  princes  driven  from  their  thrones — avarice 
working  out  its  own  punishment — idleness  cursed  into 
beggary — injustice  punished  by  the  scorn  of  the  world 
without,  and  the  stings  of  conscience  within — ambition 
23unished  b}^  sliding  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill — • 
voluptuousness  finding  its  pleasures  turned  into  poisons ; 
this  sight  might  almost  lead  to  the  conclusion,  tliat  the 
God  and  Governor  of  the  world  is  a  righteous  Being,  and 
has  so  made  us  and  made  the  world,  as  to  demonstrate 
that  he  is  in  favor  of  righteousness  by  the  punishments 
he  has  af&xed  to  iniquity.  But  here  comes  up  another 
difficulty  out  of  which  the  world's  wisdom  is  insufficient 
to  extricate  us.  Not  every  tyrant's  throne  is  dashed  to 
pieces — not  every  avaricious  man  is  gnawed  to  death  by 
his  avarice — not  every  idle  man  is  in  rags — not  every 
unjust  man  is  either  scorned  or  stung — not  every  ambi- 
tious man  fails  of  his  wish — not  every  voluptuous  man 
torments  himself  first,  and  kills  himself  afterward  by 
his  voluptuousness :  haughtiness  sometimes  lives  in  high 
places,  and  humility  in  mean  ones;  unrighteousness 
stalks  abroad  in  robes  of  honor  among  a  community, 
where  there  is  not  virtue  enough  to  scorn  the  wicked 
holder  of  a  bribe,  and  make  that  scorn  burn  and  blister 
upon  him,  till  it  drives  him  out  of  all  society  but  that  of 
villains  like  himself;  in  one  word,  holiness  itself,  the 
love  of  God  and  his  truth,  brings  many  people  into 
intolerable  afflictions,  and  the  opposite  brings  others  to 
exaltation  and  felicity.  A  man,  by  the  mere  Light  of 
Nature,  therefore,  will  never  be  able  to  solve  this  diffi- 


53 

culty,  and  justify  God  amid  tlie  darkness  wliicli  enwraps 
his  equit}^     The  world  hy  wisdom  knows  not  God. 

4.  TJie  i^ardon  of  a  sinner  rests  in  the  same  darkness. 
Man  is  a  sinner.  He  knows  that;  he  feels  it.  But  is  sin 
pardonabl  e  ?  Is  there — is  there  ajiy  where^  in  all  the  field 
of  Natural  Eeligion,  among  all  her  materials,  growing  out 
of  all  her  arguments,  is  there  any  proof  that  a  sinner 
can  be  forgiven  ?  Where  is  it  ?  what  is  it  ?  Show  it  to 
me,  and  lift  the  intolerable  burden  from  a  sinner's  soul. 
Such  a  demonstration  of  a  sinner's  forgiveness  is  no- 
where to  be  found  in  all  the  field  of  Natural  Religion.  It 
is  not  beamed  from  the  sun  ;  the  stars  do  not  twinkle  it; 
the  winds  do  not  whisper  it ;  the  fields  do  not  promise 
it ;  it  is  not  penciled  on  the  bosom  of  the  flower,  nor 
engraven  on  the  bosom  of  the  rock ;  the  sea  saith,  it  is  not 
in  me,  and  the  depth  saith,  it  is  not  in  me.  You  can  not 
find  a  single  intimation  of  pardon,  where  the  Avorld 
furnishes  most  to  exult  in,  among  the  bounties  and 
beauties  of  a  smiling  earth !  And  certainly,  pardon  is 
not  promised  by  our  calamities:  the  storm  doth  not 
speak  it ;  the  pestilence  doth  not  bring  it  on  her  death- 
wing  ;  the  thunder  doth  not  mutter  it ;  it  is  not  h}' mned 
in  the  hurricane  ;  it  is  not  shrieked  on  the  bed  of  death  ; 
it  doth  not  come  up  in  the  hollow  moan  from  the  deep, 
damp  vault  of  the  grave,  the  voice  of  putrefaction  and 
dead  men's  bones  !  and  you  can  not  hear  it  in  the  deep 
anthem  of  the  ocean,  beneath  whose  waves  in  the  coral 
cavern,  the  sailor-boy  sleeps  with  the  sea-weed  wrapped 
ahout  his  head — the  waters  his  winding  sheet,  the  deep 
roar  of  the  ocean  his  dirge ! 

Do  you  say,  yo^i  would  forgive  a  sinner?  Presump- 
tuous man !  daring  creature  !  You  are  not  Goa !  Ir- 
reverent wretch !  how  dare  you  set  yourself  as  a  pattern 


64  VANITY  OF    THE    WORLD'S  WISDOM. 

for  God  to  follow  ?  But  liow  do  you  know  you  would 
forgive  a  sinner,  if  you  sat  on  the  throne  ?  Have  you 
seen  all  the -results  of  such  an  act  of  forgiveness  ?  Can 
you  tell  the  effects  of  it  upon  the  government  of  all 
worlds  ?  Can  you  be  assured  that  such  an  act  would 
not  do  more  evil  than  good,  and  that  you  would  not  feel 
bound,  if  you  were  on  the  throne  yourself,  to  execute 
punishment  with  the  exactest  justice  upon  every  offend- 
er? You  have  no  right  to  say  you  would  forgive  a  sin- 
ner ;  and  if  you  would,  you  have  no  right  to  conclude 
that  the  great  Euler  of  the  universe  will  do  as  you 
would.  You  can  not  prove  that  it  would  not  be  an  im- 
perfection in  God  to  forgive  a  sinner.  The  innumerable 
benefits  of  God  go  a  little  way,  I  admit,  to  assure  us 
that  God  loves  to  bestow  favors  upon  us ;  but  the  attri- 
butes of  God  are  unfathomable,  boundless  oceans.  You 
can  not  traverse  them.  All  nature  can  not  measure  them. 
And  it  is  evidence  of  impiety  and  unreasonableness  in 
man,  when  he  thinks  to  gauge  the  dimensions  of  the 
mind  and  will  of  the  Eternal  One,  and,  by  the  mere 
efforts  of  his  puny  reason,  come  to  conclusions  for  Him 
who  sittetli  upon  the  throne.  Do  you  say  you  have  inti- 
mations all  around  you,  that  God  is  kind,  and  you  only 
want  him  to  be  infinitely  merciful  ?  Do  you  not  want 
him  also  to  be  infinitely  just?  If  his  justice  gives  way, 
what  security  have  you  against  dropping  into  hell,  how- 
ever innocent  you  may  be  ?  Do  you  say  you  want  him 
to  be  infinitely  merciful  and  infinitely  just  at  the  same 
time?  This  idea  may  be  sufficiently  answered  by  the 
remark,  that  you  have  very  often  yourself  found  that 
God  wnll  not  be  what  you  want  him  to  be,  and  will  not 
do  what  you  want  him  to  do  ;  but  there  is  another 
answer :  how  docs  it  appear  in  any  of  the  wisdom  of 


VANITY   OF   THE    WORLD's   WISDOAT.  55 

your  philosophizing,  that  infinite  justice  and  infinite 
mercy  are  compatible  with  one  another,  and  can  exist  in 
the  same  Being?  If  justice  is  infinite,  where  is  mercj^? 
If  mercy  is  infinite,  where  is  justice  ?  If  either  of  them 
is  not  infinite,  where  is  God  ?  And  if  mercy  is  not  in- 
finite and  alone  too,  justice  sunk  and  forgotten,  where  is 
your  hope,  thou  sinner  against  God?  You  perceive  the 
wisdom  of  the  luoiid  must  be  dumb  for  ever  before  such 
questions.  The  forgiveness  of  a  sinner  has  neither  cer- 
tainty nor  intimation  in  all  that  mere  reason  can  reach. 

But  all  these  difficulties  vanish  in  an  instant  the  mo- 
ment Divine  revelation  comes  into  our  hands.  The  most 
reasonable  thing,  therefore,  which  a  reasonable  man  can 
do,  is  to  fling  away  his  Philosophy  and  cleave  to  his 
Bible.  The  submission  of  Eeason  to  Faith  is  the  de- 
mand of  this  discussion. 

III.  The  application  of  this  subject  is  extensive.  We 
name  only  a  few  items,  briefly. 

Be  on  3^our  guard  against  a  style  of  reasoning  on 
moral  and  religious  subjects,  which  is  fast  creeping 
into  our  hterature  and  lectures,  and,  I  am  compelled  to 
say,  into  many  of  our  sermons.  Every  thing  is  coming 
to  be  philosophized.  Many  a  minister  in  the  pulpit — 
shame  on  him — betrays  his  trust  to  the  Bible  and  his 
God,  by  teaching  religion  very  much  as  if  it  were  a  mere 
matter  of  reason,  and  human  progress,  and  human  dis- 
covery, instead  of  taking  God's  Word  as  his  authority 
and  instructor,  and  uttering  in  \h.Q  ears  of  the  people, 
like  the  old  prophets.  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God.  Beware 
of  such  proceedings.  They  tend  to  infidelity.  Learn 
duty  from  God.     The  Bible  is  safe.     Philosophy  is  blind. 

Be  attached  to  the   great  distinctive  doctrines  of  the 


56  VANITY   OF  THE    WOULD's    WISDOM. 

Bible.  These  old  doctrines  are  now  sneered  at  in  some 
quarters  and  slided  over  in  others.  But  they  are  founda- 
tions. For  true  religion,  indeed  for  a  decent  morality, 
you  can  find  no  other.  Such  doctrines  as  the  depravit}^ 
of  man,  the  sovereignty  of  God,  the  necessity  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  the  need  of  faith  in  the  atonement,  of  re- 
pentance, not  simply  because  sin  is  against  nature,  and 
society,  but  more  especially  because  it  is  against  God — • 
in  one  word,  those  doctrines  which  begin  with  God,  and, 
unfolding  his  character  and  high  sovereignt}^,  place 
every  thing  beneath  the  infinity  of  his  attributes — these 
doctrines,  old-fashioned  and  unchangeable,  and  these 
only,  will  teach  you  your  right  place  and  guide  you  to 
truth  and  eternal  life.  In  his  own  Word  God  has  re- 
vealed his  mercy  and  the  mode  for  our  securing  it.  It 
admits  of  no  innovations,  no  new  developments.  Woe 
to  us,  if  we  heed  not  his  revelation  !  Woe  to  us,  if  we 
refuse  to  bring  every  thought  into  captivity  to  the  obedience  of 
Christ!  Woe  to  us,  if  forsaking  \\\q^q  fountains  of  living 
waters^  v/e  attempt  to  hew  out  for  ourselves  broken  cisterns 
of  speculation  and  the  wisdom  of  this  world!  Our  phi- 
losophy can  teach  us  nothing  to  solace  or  save.  It 
can  not  know  God.  It  can  not  leave  duty.  It  can  not 
gild  Avith  a  single  ray  of  light  the  bed  of  death.  It  can 
not  write  a  promise  upon  the  grave.  It  can  not  bridge 
the  gulf  that  yawns  betwixt  this  world  and  another,  and 
furnish  light  and  a  landing-place  on  the  shores  of  eternity. 
Prize  the  pure  Gospel.  Never  say  that  you  can 
accept  and  sign  any  creed  that  you  ever  saw :  a  sillier 
expression  never  fell  from  the  lips  of  a  fool.  Value  the 
truth.  It  gives  you  an  inestimable  privilege,  life  and 
immortality.  You  are  not  compelled  to  say  what  Cicero 
said  about  future  existence:  "I  do  not  pretend  to  say 


VANITY   OF   THE   WORLD'S   WISDOM.  57 

that  my  idea  is  infallible  as  ttie  Pjtliian  oracle — I  speak 
only  by  conjectured  Conjecture !  probability  1  what  a 
pall  to  hang  over  eternity  !  what  a  word  to  tremble 
on  a  death-struck  tongue !  The  world  hy  wisdom  knew 
not  God!  You  are  not  compelled  to  talk  to  your 
families  as  Xenophon  says  Cyrus,  the  king  of  Persia, 
spoke  to  his  children :  "I  know  not  how  to  persuade 
myself  that  the  soul  lives  in  this  mortal  body,  and 
ceases  to  be  when  the  body  dies.  I  am  rather  inclined 
to  thinh  that  after  death  it  acquires  more  penetration 
and  more  purity."  Eather  inclined  to  think!  What 
an  idea  to  wrap  round  futurity!  How  insufficient 
for  a  soul — a  soul  approaching — perhaps  immortality — 
perhaps  annihilation !  If  one  of  your  children  dies,  you 
are  not  compelled  to  say,  as  Tully  said,  in  his  grief  at 
the  death  of  a  favorite  daughter,  "I  hate  the  gods." 
You  are  not  compelled  to  say,  as  the  learned  philoso- 
pher, Socrates,  said  to  the  judges  who  had  sentenced 
him  to  death:  "And  now  we  are  going  to  part;  I  to 
suffer  death,  and  you  to  enjoy  life;  and  God  only 
knows  which  is  best."  You  need  not  die  with  your 
soul  whelmed  in  such  a  sea  of  uncertainty.  If  you  have 
faith,  you  may  say,  /  am  ready  to  he  offered  up.  I  know 
that  my  Redeemer  liveth  ;  and  though  after  my  skin  worms 
destroy  this  hody^  yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  God.  Such  is 
your  privilege.  Immortality  is  vouchsafed  by  the  will 
of  God. 

But  it  is  a  strange  thing — yes,  it  is  passing  strange — 
that  after  the  sure  word  of  prophecy  has  been  given  to  us, 
as  a  light  shining  in  a  dark  place — after  God  has  made 
duty  known  to  us,  redemption  known,  salvation,  heaven 
known,  and  cleared  away  all  the  difficulties  and  dark- 
ness which  trouble  speculation,  confound  reason,  and 


58  VANITY   OF   THE   WORLD'S   WISDO:vr. 

make  mere  natural  religion  useless,  leaving  ns  as  it  does 
without  God  and  loithout  hope — it  is  passing  strange  to 
see  here  so  many  immortal  souls  wlio  have  never  heeded 
the  words  of  God's  redeeming  mercy !  Many  of  you 
have  never  obeyed  the  Grospel !  Oh,  sinner !  impenitent 
sinner !  blind  unbeliever !  I  warn  you,  in  the  name  of 
reason  and  of  God,  I  warn  you  it  is  a  solemn  thing  for 
you  to  live  under  the  Gospel  and  not  obey  it — to  have 
in  your  hands  the  book  of  life,  and  make  it  to  your 
immortal  soul  the  book  of  death !  If  you  obey  it,  you 
will  live  for  ever.  If  you  only  hear  it,  and  cast  off  its 
faith  from  your  heart,  its  duties  from  your  conscience, 
and  its  promised  grace  from  your  soul,  the  day  is 
coming  when  your  Bible  w^ill  be  your  accuser  at  the 
tribunal  of  God,  and  demonstrate  your  desert  of  the 
condemnation  of  those  who  love  darkness  rather  than  light ; 
yea,  and  your  very  minister  will  be  to  yon  a  savor  of 
death  unto  death!  Stop  in  your  mad  career!  Take 
not  another  step  towards  hell !  God,  your  Maker,  calls 
to  you.  You  must  believe.  You  must  trust  Christ- 
You  must  be  horn  of  the  Spirit.  Lay  your  pride  in  the 
dust.  Dismiss  your  vain  philosophy,  for  it  pleases  God 
to  save  them  that  helieve.  To-day^  if  ye  luill  hear  his  voice. 
God  grant  you  ears.     Amen, 


C|e  Cnit!]  Ijcltr  in  eliirigljteousttess. 


For  the  wrath  of  God  is  revealed  from  heaven  against  all  imrightoous- 
ness  and  ungodliness  of  men,  who  hold  the  truth  in  unrighteousness. — 
EoiTANS,  i.  18. 


TUST  before  this  text,  Paul  liacl  affirmed  that  those 
^  only  could  Hue,  that  is,  could  be  saved,  who  were  justi- 
fied by  faith.  He  meant  to  declare  what  he  has  else- 
where declared  so  often — that  no  righteousness,  except 
that  which  is  of  Grod,  through  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ,  can  avail  for  the  justification  of  men.  In  this 
verse  he  proceeds  to  assign  the  reason.  The  reason  is, 
that  God  is  just.  Men  must  be  justified  by  faith  in 
Christ,  if  they  are  justified  at  all,  for  the  lurath  of  God  is 
revealed  from  heaven  against  all  unrighteousness ;  that  is, 
God's  disapproval  of  sin,  and  determination  to  punish  it, 
are  things  clearly  made  known,  revealed  from  heaven. 

The  Apostle  does  not  here  tell  us  hoio  this  is  made 
known.  In  other  places  he  has  told.  He  has  given  us 
two  explanations  of  it.  One  is,  that  the  Divine  revelation 
discloses  it.  The  other  is,  that  it  is  made  known  by 
nature — that  is,  by  the  natural  conscience  and  reasonings 
of  man,  as  he  studies  the  things  of  the  imiverse  around 
him,  and  studies  his  own  heart.  But  here  he  does  not 
stop  to  explain  the  method  of  the  revelation.  He  had 
just  asserted  the  necessity  of  fiiith  in  Christ,  in  order  to 
any  sinner's  justification  with  God  ;  and  in  this  verse  he 


60  THE   TRUTH   HELD   IX    UNEIGHTEOUSNESS. 

assumes  it  as  a  fact  forced  upon  the  full  conviction  of 
the  sinner,  that  God  will  punish  sin.  This  is  the  reason 
whj  the  sinner  must  believe  in  Christ.  He  can  escape 
wrath  in  no  other  waj^ 

That  man  is  a  sinner,  and  that  God  will  punish  sin, 
are  among  those  manifest  truths  whicli  are  proved  in  so 
many  ways,  and  which  lie  so  clearly  in  man's  own  con- 
victions and  conscience,  that  they  may  fairly  be  assumed 
as  already  known,  and  beyond  the  necessity  of  demon- 
stration. 

Paul's  reasonings  all  proceed  upon  tlie  ground  of 
God's  retributive  justice.  If  such  justice  forms  no  part 
of  the  Divine  character  and  Divine  dominion  over  sin- 
ners, then  it  may  be  admitted  that  they  are  ever  so  sin- 
ful, and  yet  may  be  consistently  maintained  that  their 
justification  is  possible  in  some  otlier  way  than  by  faith 
in  Christ  who  died  for  them — possible  by  any  work, 
moral  or  ceremonial,  by  outward  rights  or  their  own 
good  works,  as  God  may  appoint.  But  if  sin  must  be 
punished,  then  pardon,  dispensed  to  the  sinner,  must 
not  only  be  perfectly  free  and  gratuitous  to  him,  but  it 
can  never  be  bestowed  upon  him  even  as  a  gratuity, 
only  on  the  foundation  of  a  suf&cient  atonement.  Such 
punitive  justice,  Paul  says,  is  revealed  from  heaven,  and 
therefore  faith  is  indispensable.  The  sinner  must  accept 
the  atonement  which  alone  God  will  accept  for  him  as  a 
sinner. 

This  justice  is  against  all  unrighteousness  and  ungodli- 
ness of  men.  It  condemns  and  will  punish  all  immorality 
and  all  impiety.  Men  who  hold  the  truth,  even  if  they 
hold  it  in  luwiglUeousyiess,  cari  not  escape. 

In  the  sacred  Scriptures,  the  word  truth  is  often  used 
to  signify  the  system  of  true  religion,  all  its  doctrines. 


THE   TRUTH  HELD   IN   UNEIGHTEOUSNESS.  61 

and  all  its  duties.  It  is  so  used  here  ;  that  is,  it  is  used 
to  signify  true  knowledge  about  religion,  whether  that 
knowledge  is  more  or  less  extensive.  Such  knowledge 
many  do  possess,  but  thej  hold  it  in  unrighteousness; 
they  are  unrighteous  still,  they  do  not  ohey  the  truth, 
and  they  are  not  justified  and  saved. 

There  may  be  some  doubt  whether  the  apostle,  in  this 
latter  clause,  has  reference  to  the  heathen,  (as  manifestly 
he  refers  to  them  in  the  twenty-first  verse,)  or  has  refer- 
ence to  those  who  have  the  written  Word  of  God.  We 
will  not  attempt  to  decide  that  question.  But  if  the 
heathen  are  justly  condemned  because  they  do  not  obey 
the  little  truth  which  they  do  know,  certainly  those  under 
the  Gospel  may  expect  a  much  sorer  condemnation  if  they 
hold  the  truth  in  unrighteousness. 

To  hold^  sometimes  means  merely  to  j^ossess  ;  and  some- 
times it  means  to  confine^  to  hinder^  or  impede.  Its  sense 
can  not  be  mistaken  here.  Those  spoken  of  are  said  to 
hold  the  truth  in  unrighteousness ;  they  are  not  benefited 
by  it — they  are  not  justified  and  saved.  It  is  manifestly 
implied,  that  the  due  influence  of  the  truth  which  they 
do  understand  would  lead  them  to  righteousness,  if  they 
would  consent  to  be  influenced  hj  truth  ;  and,  therefore, 
their  holding  it  must  mean  that  they  hinder  it — they  limit 
its  influence — they  deny  to  it  its  just  sway  over  them. 

To  this  latter  clause,  with  the  interpretation  we  have 
thus  given  it,  we  now  invite  your  attention.  We  are 
going  to  maintain  the  following  proposition  : 

That  the  truth,  which  establishes  the  religion  of  Jesus 
Christ,  has  no  defects  which  can  account  for  the  rejection 
of  that  religion ;  but  that  its  rejection  is  attributable 
solely  to  an  unrighteous  disjoosition,  which  refuses  to 
truth  its  due  influence. 


62  THE   TEUTH   IIEL])   IN   UNEIGIITEOUSNESS. 

This  is  our  tlieme.  We  maintain,  that,  on  this  ground, 
so  many  immortal  souls  under  the  Gospel's  light  are  still 
in  darkness,  and  hasting  awfully  onwards  to  the  bar  of  a 
just  God,  having  no  other  prospect  before  them  than  the 
wrath  mentioned  in  the  text. 

To  substantiate  this  pro|)Osition,  we  select  from  a  mul- 
titude which  occur  to  us,  twelve  ideas  respecting  this  re- 
jected ti^uth: 

1.  Its  powerful  nature. 

2.  Its  clearness. 

3.  Its  strong  evidence. 

4.  Its  important  matter. 

5.  Its  reasonable  terms. 

6.  Its  manifest  obligation. 

7.  Its  ease  of  acceptance. 

8.  Its  frequency  of  solicitotion. 

9.  Its  felicity  in  obedience. 

10.  Its  adapted  motives. 

11.  Its  striking  arguments. 

12.  Its  feeble  antagonists, 

These  are  the  items  to  occupy  us  now.  It  would  be 
easy  to  compose  a  whole  sermon  upon  each  of  them. 
But  sometimes  it  is  beneficial  to  condense  and  group 
together  into  a  small  space  those  particulars  which  would 
naturally  fill  up  a  larger  one.  Our  memories  are  not 
very  retentive ;  and  most  of  all  do  they  fail  us  when  we 
are  called  on  to  remember  for  God  and  our  own  salva- 
tion. As  the  preacher  expands  one  idea,  the  hearer 
loses  the  influence  of  the  one  which  preceded  it ;  and 
thus  the  very  perfection  of  the  logician  diminishes  the 
force  of  his  arguments.  We  condense,  therefore,  to 
mere  hints,  what  might  well  afford  materials  for  elab- 
orate discussions. 


THE  TRUTH   HELD    TX    UNRIGHTEOL'SXESS.  63 

1.  l^hQ  powerful  nature  of  truth.  The  human  mind  is 
so  formed,  that  to  it  truth  is  omnipotent.  The  mind  has 
no  abihty  to  resist  it.  The  mind  is,  and  must  be,  in  re- 
spect to  its  convictions  and  conclusions,  perfectly  passive 
under  it.  If  the  mind  only  understands  it,  it  can  not 
disbelieve  it.  Evidence  compels  assent ;  demonstration 
conquers,  controls,  and  carries  the  mind  captive  at  its 
will.  Just  the  moment  that  truth  is  perceived,  and  it  is 
perceived  to  be  the  truth,  the  mind  can  no  more  refuse 
its  convictions,  than  the  body  refuse  to  feel  the  fire  that 
burns  it,  or  the  frost  that  freezes  it ;  no  more  than  the 
opened  eye  can  refuse  to  see  the  light  of  the  sun  poured 
on  its  naked  ball ;  or  the  ear  refuse  to  hear  the  thunder 
that  bellows  in  the  heavens.  No  volition,  no  purpose, 
no  fixed  resolution,  has  any  influence  directly  in  the 
matter.  Man  can  avoid  conviction  by  truth,  just  as  he 
can  avoid  burning  by  fire — getting  out  of  its  way,  refus- 
ing contact  with  it — and  in  no  other  way.  So  of  the 
frost,  so  of  the  light  of  the  sun,  so  of  the  thunder.  These 
may  be  shunned,  but  not  directly  resisted.  The  truth  is 
just  like  them. 

Such  is  truth  to  the  mind  ;  and  such  is  the  means  ap- 
pointed by  God  for  man's  salvation.  If,  therefore,  men 
did  not  hold  the  truth  in  unrighteousness  ;  if  they  did  not, 
by  evil  disposition,  refuse  to  it  its  due  influence,  it  would 
be  impossible  that  they  should  be  lost.  But  they  avoid 
truth.  They  refuse  to  open  their  eyes  to  its  evidence. 
The  heart  of  sin  leads  the  mind  ofP.  And  even  when 
the  mind  is  vanquished,  as  often  it  must  be,  the  sinner 
will  scarcely  undertake  a  single  duty  of  religion,  even  in 
external  form.  He  limits  truth's  influence.  He  does  it 
in  unrighteousness,  from  the  evil  of  his  own  disposition. 


64  THE   TRUTH  HELD   IN  UNRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

Nothing  but  sucli  intentional  iniquity  can  resist  tlie 
powerful  nature  of  truth. 

This  is  the  first  argument.  We  could  write  a  book  to 
illustrate  it.  Let  us  name  to  you  the  outlines  of  some 
of  the  chapters. 

One  chapter  should  treat  of  those  whose  minds  are 
solicited  by  different  themes  of  thought,  whose  libraries 
contain  different  kinds  of  books,  who  have  opportunity 
to  hear  different  kinds  of  discussions,  but  whose  indis- 
position to  obey  God  in  righteousness  leads  them  to  lend 
their  attention  to  themes  which  they  know  will  never 
influence  them  towards  religion,  and  deny  it  to  the  truths 
of  God. 

Another  chapter  should  treat  of  infidels.  It  should 
show  that  men  like  Gibbon,  and  Voltaire,  and  Yolney, 
and  Bolingbroke,  and  Paine,  and  Hume,  and  even 
Herbert,  were  ignorant  of  the  contents  and  evidences 
of  the  very  Bible  they  attacked;  or  else  filled  their 
writings  with  intentional  misrepresentations  and  false- 
hoods. 

Another  chapter  should  treat  of  men's  practices.  It 
should  show  that  society  is  filled  with  men,  who  have 
Bibles  in  their  houses,  and  seats  in  the  churches,  who 
acknowledge  the  truth  of  Christianity  and  the  obligation 
of  its  duties,  but  who  rarely  or  never  attempt  to  dis- 
charge them.  Some  of  them  indulge  avarice,  some  sen- 
suality, some  pride,  some  never  pray  in  secret,  some 
never  in  their  families ! 

Another  chapter  should  treat  of  men's  different  tastes 
in  the  things  of  nature.  It  should  show  how  strangely 
they  use  the  world.  It  should  tell  of  the  astronomer 
among  the  stars,  the  geologist  among  his  rocks  and 
fossils,  of  the  painter  and  the  poet  enraptured  among 


THE   TRUTH   HELD   IN    UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.  65 

the  beauties  and  grandeur  of  creation,  catching  dehght 
and  breathing  ecstasy  every  where ;  and  all  of  these 
minds  suffering  but  ONE  kind  of  truths  to  escape  them, 
those  truths  that  lead  to  God  ! 

These  shouhl  be  some  of  the  chapters.  And  all  of 
them,  combined  or  singly,  we  are  sure  could  be  made 
lucid  illustrations  of  the  point  before  us,  that  nothing 
but  an  evil  disposition  can  account  for  the  inef&cacy  of 
those  truths  about  duty  and  about  God,  which  lie  in  the 
Bible,  and  which  are  scattered  every  where  over  crea- 
tion, and  which  would  vanquish  mind,  if  a  heart  of  sin 
would  allow  mind  to  touch  them. 

2.  The  clearness  of  the  system  of  religious  truths. 

For  the  use  and  influence  of  mind,  according  to  the 
very  nature  of  mind,  it  is  not  enough  that  truth  should 
be  powerful.  It  must  be  clear.  No  man  can  justly 
expect  its  influence  to  be  quick  and  common,  if  it  is 
wrapt  in  obscurity.  But  religious  truth  is  not.  It  is 
very  remarkable,  how  all  the  duties  of  morality  and 
piety  are  made  perfectly  plain  in  the  Bible.  No  man  can 
mistake  them,  except  by  evil  disposition.  Who  ever 
doubted  the  meaning  of  the  first  commandment  ? 
Who  was  ever  misled  by  our  Saviour's  golden  rule? 
What  sinner  on  earth  is  ignorant  of  what  prayer  means? 
or  ignorant  of  its  duty  and  its  necessity  for  salvation  ? 
Is  there  a  single  accountable  creature  in  the  universe 
who  can  not  see,  as  clearly  as  he  can  see  any  thing,  that 
honesty  is  right?  dishonesty  is  wrong?  that  revenge, 
cruelty,  debauchery,  irreverence,  and  disobedience  to- 
wards God,  his  Maker,  are  sins  ?  Not  one !  No,  never  a 
man  !  They  can  as  soon  doubt  the  light  of  the  sun,  or  the 
sound  of  the  thunder.  Well,  so  it  is.  All  the  essen- 
tial truths  of  morality  and  piety  are  clear.     We  do  not 


66  THE   TRUTK   HELD   IN    UNRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

know  as  God  could  make  tliem  any  clearer.  We  do  not 
know  as  eternity  itself  shall  ever  do  it.  Mind,  if  a  wicked 
lieart  does  not  in  unrighteousness  liold  it  back  from  tlie 
study,  sliall  understand  all  the  truths  essential  to  salva- 
tion, with  as  much  clearness  as  its  very  nature  will 
admit.  Nothing  could  make  them  clearer.  In  eternity, 
in  heaven,  or  in  hell,  a  man  will  not,  probably,  perceive 
that  he  ought  to  obey  God  and  love  him,  any  more 
clearly  than  he  perceives  it  now.  He  perceives  it,  or 
can,  and  ought  to  perceive  it,  as  clearly  as  he  perceives 
his  own  existence. 

What,  then,  is  the  conclusion  ?  It  is,  that  um^ighteous' 
ness  holds  truths  limits,  hinders  its  influence !  That  an 
evil  disposition,  and  not  any  lack  of  truth's  clearness, 
keeps  sinners  from  morality,  piety,  and  salvation. 

This  is  the  second  argument.  We  could  write 
another  book  to  illustrate  it.  Let  us  name  to  you  some 
of  the  items  in  its  table  of  contents. 

One  chapter  should  compare  the  science  of  religion 
with  human  sciences.  It  should  show,  that  there  are 
none  of  the  human  sciences  (no,  not  even  the  science  of 
mathematics)  so  clear.  Some  of  you  are  scholars.  You 
recollect  the  mathematical  demonstration  of  the  con- 
tinual convergence  of  two  extended  lines,  which  can  be 
infinitely  extended,  and  always  approaching  each  other, 
and  yet,  in  all  that  infinite  extent,  never  meet.  Your 
mind  sees  no  defect  in  the  demonstration  ;  every  link  of 
its  chain  looks  firm  as  steel.  But  think  of  it.  Your 
converging  lines  were,  at  first,  but  a  single  inch  from 
one  another.  They  are  extended  onwards  and  onwards^ 
and  perpetually  approaching  each  other  to  an  infinity. 
What  have  you,  then,  but  an  infinite  inch  ?  a  single  inch 
in  measure,  which  you  shorten  for  ever  and  ever,  and 


THE   TEUTH   HELD   IN   UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.  67 

never  exhaust  your  diminutive  little  incli  ?  Our  chapter 
should  show,  that  there  is  not  a  single  essential  truth  in 
religion  so  difficult  for  the  human  mind  to  perceive  with 
clearness,  as  this.  And  yet,  men  act  in  difficult  sciences, 
and  refuse  to  act  in  an  easy  religion. 

Another  chapter  should  be  entitled,  "  Commerce."  It 
should  show  that  men  of  trade  are  acting  every  day,  and 
must,  (if  they  act  at  all,)  act  on  the  basis  of  information, 
whose  clearness  has  no  comparison  with  the  clearness  of 
the  most  difficult  truths  in  religion.  Yet,  they  neglect  a 
clear  religion,  and  attend  to  a  cloudy  commerce. 

Another  chapter  should  be  entitled,  "  Political  Econo- 
my." It  should  have  two  sections  in  it.  The  first  one 
should  attack  the  very  foundations  of  Smith  and  Malthus, 
and  the  rest,  maintaining  that  the  "  vfealth  of  nations" 
consists  in  the  piety  of  the  people ;  and  that  this  truth 
about  the  value  of  religion  is  more  clear,  (substantiated, 
as  it  is,  in  all  the  history  of  human  poverty  and  compe- 
tence,) than  are  those  truths  on  which  these  writers 
have  founded  their  systems,  and  on  which  men  are  con- 
stantly acting. — The  second  section  should  illustrate  the 
foct,  that  there  is  no  principle  of  Political  Economy  so 
clear,  as  is  the  sense  and  propriety  of  that  question  of 
Jesus  Christ,  wltat  shall  a  man  he  profited^  if  he  shall  gain 
the  lohole  luorld,  and  lose  his  oivn  soul?  And  all  the 
chapters  of  this  book  should  combine  to  show,  that  men 
in  every  department  and  occupation  of  life  are  constantly 
acting  on  systems  of  truth,  which  are  less  clear  than 
all  the  truths  essential  to  salvation. 

The  cause^  therefore,  of  your  impiety,  if  you  are  an 
impious  man,  is  not  that  religious  truth  is  not  clear, 
but  that  your  evil  disposition  holds  it  in,  limits  it,  denies 
to  it  its  due  influence. 


68  THE   TRUTH  HELD   IN   UNRiaHTEOUSNESS. 

Mind  lias  light  enough.  Keligious  truth  is  clear 
enough.  Its  light  shines  on  infancy,  manhood,  and  old 
age.  It  shines  on  us  in  society  and  in  solitude,  at  home 
and  abroad,  in  the  field  of  work  and  on  the  bed  of  pain. 
Its  light  shines  every  where.  It  is  on  Sinai,  on  Calvary ; 
it  beams  upon  Lebanon,  and  along  the  vales  where 
molder  the  bones  of  the  prophets.  It  shines  along  the 
track  of  the  Apostles.  It  enters  their  jails.  It  reaches 
every  hut  of  poverty  and  ignorance  ;  and  there  is  not  a 
mind  so  dark,  uncertain,  and  untutored,  among  human 
kind,  but  it  may  have  knowledge  enough.  If  man  can 
know  any  thing  clearly,  he  can  know  how  to  be  saved. 
Unrighteousness  alone  can  hinder  him. 

3.  The  strength  of  evidence  which  belongs  to  religious 
truth.  Mind  needs  this.  It  is  not  enough  that  the 
meaning  of  truth  is  clear.  In  order  to  its  proper  claim 
for  acceptance,  its  character  as  truth  needs  to  be  evinced 
to  us.  And  so  it  is.  It  is  evinced  powerfully  and 
variously. 

Here  is  the  Bible.  I  ask  history  where  it  comes 
from  ?  who  wrote  it  ?  when  ?  where  ?  History  takes  me 
back  into  the  shades  and  among  the  relics  of  antiquity. 
It  brings  up  ancient  Chaldea  and  Persia,  ancient  Syria 
and  Egypt,  and  Greece  and  Kome — their  kings,  and 
generals,  and  conquests — their  commerce,  arts,  and  bat- 
tles. She  points  me  to  Horeb,  still  there  with  its  rock  ; 
to  the  wilderness  of  sand  ;  to  the  ruins  of  cities  ;  to  the 
Lake  of  Gennesaret ;  to  the  Mount  of  Olives.  And 
thus  she  compels  me  to  confess,  that,  if  pen  ever  wrote 
facts  to  be  believed  afterwards,  this  Bible  is  to  be  be- 
lieved. 

Here  is  the  Bible.  It  is  full  of  prophecies.  Every  body 
knows  there  is  but  one  eye  which  can  penetrate  down 


THE   TPvUTII   HELD   IN   UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.  69 

into  the  mysteries  of  the  Future.  God,  not  man,  can  write 
the  history  of  cities  and  kingdoms  in  advance.  I  ask  the 
traveler  what  Tyre  is  now  ?  what  Babylon  ?  what  Nine- 
veh? what  Jerusalem?  Tyre,  Babylon,  Nineveh,  Jerusa- 
lem, are  just  what  the  Bible  said  they  should  be.  Titus, 
though  its  conqueror,  could  not  save  Jerusalem's  Temple  ; 
and  Julian,  though  Emperor,  could  not  rebuild  it.  Jesus 
Christ  had  said,  one  stone  should  not  he  left  upon  another. 
Ah !  this  is  God's  Word.  And  as  centuries  march  on 
they  are  constantly  fulfilling  more  and  more  of  the  pre- 
dictions recorded  here,  and  rolling  up  an  accumulation 
of  evidence  down  to  the  period  when  time  shall  he  no 
longer. 

Here  is  the  Bible.  Who  love^  it?  The  good,  the 
moral,  the  kind,  the  honest,  the  sober  ;  the  men  of  mind 
and  heart  such  as  mind  and  heart  should  be ;  the  men 
of  prayer.  Who  hate^  it  ?  The  bad,  the  immoral,  the 
revengeful,  the  dishonest,  the  men  of  sin.  This  evi- 
dence is  clear.  Good  men  do  not  love  falsehood ;  and 
bad  men  are  prone  to  hate  propriety  and  truth. 

Here  is  the  Bible.  It  takes  more  venturesome  steps 
than  any  book  that  was  ever  written.  It  ventures  into 
the  inside  of  every  man's  heart.  It  foretells  every  man's 
moral  history  and  habits,  if  left  without  the  Holy  Spirit. 
It  tells  all  man's  character,  all  his  wants.  It  tells  what 
shall  comfort  him.  It  tells  what  it  is,  that  shall  satisfy 
man's  conscience,  as  he  is  a  sinner ;  shall  soothe  his 
fears ;  gild  the  curtains  of  his  death-bed ;  make  his 
grave  light,  and  put  alleluiahs  into  his  lips,  as  his  spirit 
forsakes  its  clay.  This  is  evidence  enough.  Every  man 
knows  the  truth  of  the  Bible,  just  as  well  as  he  knows 
his  own  heart  and  the  real  wants  and  woes  of  his  own 
moral  and  immortal  being. 


70     THE  TEUTn  HELD  IN"  UNEIGHTEOUSNESS. 

It  is  liardlj  conceivable  in  what  manner  the  truth  of 
our  religion  could  be  evinced  to  us  with  more  strength 
of  evidence.  Miracles  could  not  do  it.  They  have 
done  what  they  could.  Bad  men  said,  when  they  saw 
them,  that  Jesus  Christ  wrought  them  by  the  power  of 
the  Devil,  and  bad  men  would  say  it  again.  If  ye 
helieve  not  Moses  and  the  Prophets^  ye  luould  not  believe 
though  one  rose  from  the  dead.  The  truths  of  religion 
have  such  a  strength  of  evidence  that  they  would  per- 
fectly vanquish  every  mind  in  the  universe,  and  control 
all  the  hearts,  and  habits,  and  hopes  of  sinners  like  us,  if 
an  evil  heart  did  not  unrighteously  limit  their  influence. 

4.  The  importance  of  its  matter.  This  is  a  thing  of 
necessity,  in  order  to  just  claim  for  influence.  Man  can 
not  be  expected  to  give  himself  up  to  the  influences  of 
truth,  evinced  to  him  ever  so  clearly,  if  the  matter  of 
the  truth  is  a  thing  of  little  moment  to  him.  But  relig- 
ious truth  is  of  moment  to  him.  He  sees  something  of 
its  moment  here ;  and  he  shall  see  more  of  it  when  the 
hand  of  death  shall  lift  the  curtain  which  hangs  over 
the  entrance-gate  into  eternity !  Every  man  knows  the 
importance  to  human  happiness  that  the  morals  enjoined 
in  the  Bible  should  prevail.  Every  man  knows,  or  may 
know,  if  he  is  willing  to  know  it,  that  the  most  of  the 
ills  which  afflict  men  in  health,  which  diminish  their 
felicities,  and  enhance  their  v»^oes,  come  from  their  own 
disregard,  or  the  disregard  of  other  people,  for  the 
morality  of  the  Bible.  Its  truth  is  of  mioment.  If 
obeyed  every  where,  we  should  have  no  murders,  no 
thieves,  no  bank-robbers  and  swindlers,  no  jails,  no  gib- 
bets, no  angry  law-suits,  no  cruel  slaverj^,  no  slanders, 
no  locks,  and  bars,  and  bolts  on  our  houses.  Maj^  we 
ask  you  to  study  the  question,  when  you  have  leisure, 


THE   TKUTH   HELD   IN   UKRIGHTEOUSNESS.  71 

how  mucli  of  tlie  present  misery  of  man  is  entirely 
unnecessary — entirely  of  his  own  creation?  and  how 
great  an  amount  of  misery  would  be  no  more,  if  Bible 
piety  and  morality  prevailed?  It  is  admitted,  men 
would  still  have  religious  trials,  and  fears,  and  despond- 
encies; men  would  be  sick;  men  w^ould  die.  But  if 
true  religion  prevailed  with  all  men,  there  is  not  a  living 
man  whose  felicities  w^ould  not  be  doubled.  It  would 
gild  every  path  of  life,  and  make  the  world  and  life  in  it 
more  valuable.  Bat  death  is  in  it!  And  heaven  and 
hell,  built  for  eternity,  are  separated  from  us  only  by  a 
few  hours  of  mingled  smiles  and  tears,  and  a  few  death- 
struggles.  In  one  or  the  other  of  them  we  shall  dwell 
eternally !  As  far  as  nature  v/ill  permit,  we  shall  resem- 
ble God  or  resemble  devils !  All  the  felicity  of  eternal 
glory,  or  the  wrath  of  God,  revealed  from  heaven,  awaits 
us!  The  importance  of  the  matter,  therefore,  which 
religious  truth  brings  before  us  cannot  be  enhanced. 
Its  matter  is  more  important  to  men  here  than  any  other 
system  to  make  life  happy,  from  the  cradle  to  the  cofB.n. 
And  after  coffins  shall  be  emptied  of  their  tenants,  its 
importance  lies  out  beyond  the  resurrection  of  the  dead 
— immortal  weal,  or  immortal  woe  1  All  this  God  says  ; 
the  mind  can  understand,  the  heart  fear  or  hope.  No- 
thiDg,  therefore,  but  a  heart  of  unrighteousness  can  breast 
the  influence  of  such  truth  as  this.  It  would  overwhelm 
mind,  it  would  control  the  habits,  hopes  and  aims  of 
every  djdng  sinner  on  earth,  if  he  were  not  unrighteous 
in  his  treatment  of  it. 

5.  Its  reasonable  terms.  It  is  difficult  to  conceive  how 
any  body  can  quarrel  with  them.  Their  whole  nature  is 
formed  on  this  principle,  namely,  to  make  every  sinner 
on  earth  as  happy  as  he  is  capable  of  being,  and  lead 


72  THE   TRUTH   HELD   IN   UNRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

Jiim  to  heaven  in  the  best  way  he  could  ever  get  there. 
The  account  of  their  origin  is,  GorJ  so  loved  the  loorld  that 
he  gave  his  only-hegotten  Son.  Let  God  tell  us  the  terms 
themselves :  Let  the  iviched  forsake  his  luay^  and  the 
unrighteous  man  his  thoughts^  and  let  him  return  unto  the 
Lord^  and  he  ivill  have  mercy  upon  him,  and  to  our  God, 
for  he  will  abundantly  pardon.  If  a?iy  man  thirst,  let 
him  come  unto  me  and  drink,  without  moiiey  and  luithout 
price.  The  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say,  Come ;  and  let  him 
that  heareth  say,  Come;  and  let  him  that  is  aihirst,  come; 
and  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  of  the  loater  of  life  FREELY. 
What  say  you,  sinner  ?  These  are  the  terms,  and  what 
quarrel  have  you  with  them?  God  hath  made  a  free 
grant  of  his  Son  to  every  sinner  that  wants  him.  And 
if  the  sinner  will  turn  from  his  sins  (through  offered 
grace),  and  take  God  at  his  word,  he  need  do  no  more. 
Are  not  the  terms  reasonable  ?  And  if  you  would  let 
reason,  and  not  unrighteousness,  prevail  with  you,  this 
system  of  kind  and  blessed  truth  would  instantly  bear 
sway,  and  set  you  out  on  the  way  to  the  final  city  of 
God. 

6.  The  manifest  ohligation  of  the  truth.  Every  body 
can  understand  that  the  obligation  is  perfect  and  infinite. 
Man  is  a  creature.  He  is  dependent,  sinful  and  helpless. 
God  is  the  proprietor  of  his  being.  He  has  made  him 
with  a  conscience,  and  a  heart  of  sensibilities,  as  well  as 
with  a  mind  of  intelligence.  And  (to  greater  or  less 
extent),  sinner  and  dark  as  he  is,  all  these  faculties,  and 
all  this  feebleness  and  dependence,  conspire  to  show  him, 
that  if  any  one  obligation  is  more  incumbent  upon  him 
than  another,  that  obligation  is,  to  do  as  God  bids  him. 
It  is  impossible  that  any  other  obligation  should  equal 
this.     None  ever  can;   the  sinner  must   have  another 


THE  TRUTH  HELD  IN  UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.     73 

God  and  another  Maker  first.  If  lie  will  not  obey  God, 
lie  is  doing  tlie  worst  thing  he  can  do  He  is  a  rebel 
against  his  Maker.  He  is  unjust,  ungrateful!  He  is 
battling  his  own  mind,  his  own  conscience,  and  the 
better  sensibilities  of  the  heart  within  him !  Truth  of 
such  obligation  would  instantly  dash  the  weapons  of 
rebellion  out  of  his  hands,  if  he  did  not  love  to  be  a 
rebel  against  God.  His  imrighteousness  hinders  its  influ- 
ence. 

7.  Its  ease  of  acceptance.  We  are  not  going  to  main- 
tain that  it  is  an  easy  thing  to  become  a  Christian.  But 
we  do  maintain,  that  the  only  great  difficulty  in  the  way, 
lies  simply  in  this,  namely,  really  desiring  to  he  a  Chris- 
tian. Nothing  hinders  a  sinner  from  accejoting  easily 
and  willingly  all  the  truths  of  God  and  all  the  terms  of 
salvation,  except  that  one  thing  we  have  mentioned  so 
often  in  this  sermon — his  own  imrighteousness^  his  evil 
disposition.  That  is  a  difficulty.  That  is  the  only  great 
difficulty.  God  is  willing  to  save  him.  Jesus  Christ  is 
willing  to  accept  him.  And  the  Holy  Spirit's  influence, 
if  he  had  not  resisted  it,  would  long  since  have  subdued 
his  stubbornness,  and  brought  him  to  rest  sweetly  on  the 
mercy  of  God.  But  he  never  will  rest  there,  without  the 
special  influences  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  His  need  of 
Divine  aid  is  an  infinite  need.  He  can  do  nothing  with- 
out it.  He  is  a  dead  man.  But  he  is  dead  in  sin.  Un- 
righteousness makes  him  need  the  special  influences  of  the 
Holy  Spirit  infinitely,  and  in  every  thing.  Oh  !  that  he 
knew  it — realized  it.  -Then  he  would  rely  no  longer 
upon  his  own  shattered  strength,  vain  purposes,  and  un- 
aided attempts  to  master  the  sturdy  rebellion  of  his 
dreadful  heart.  He  would  fall  into  the  hands  of  God. 
All  the  sinner  has  to  do,  is  simply  to  let  God  have  his 

4 


74  THE   TRUTH   HELD   IN    UNRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

heart,  and  lie  down  on  the  everlasting  arms  stretched 
out  to  receive  him.  Salvation  is  so  easy,  that  if  a 
sinner's  whole  heart  seeks  it,  if  he  is  really  willing  to 
have  it,  the  promise  of  God  puts  it  into  his  hands.  Ye 
shall  find  me,  when  ye  shall  search  for  me  with  all  your 
heart. 

8.  lis  frequency  of  solicitation.  It  would  be  impossible 
to  give  you  any  adequate  description  of  the  frequency 
with  which  we  are  solicited  towards  God  and  salvation 
by  the  truths  that  meet  us.  We  are  solicited  every 
where.  In  every  object  of  vision,  in  every  subject  of 
thought,  there  is  something  which  would  naturally  bring 
religion  to  mind.  Consider  the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  their 
beauty  shall  teach  you,  that  Solomoyi  in  all  his  glory  teas 
not  arrayed  like  one  of  these;  the  penciling  of  God's 
fingers  is  upon  them.  The  sparkling  diamonds  of  a 
summer's  morning  ask  you  the  question.  Who  hath  he- 
gotten  the  drops  of  the  dew  f  It  rains :  How  natural  tire 
question,  Hath  the  rain  a  father  f  It  snows :  How  natural 
to  ask,  the  hoary  frost  of  heaven,  ivho  hath  gendered  it?  It 
is  midnight :  You  may  look  upon  the  orbs  of  light  that 
lie  out  on  that  bosom  of  blue,  and  ask  of  any  being  but 
God,  Canst  thou  hind  the  sweet  infiuences  of  the  Pleiads? 
or  loose  the  hands  of  Orion  ?  Canst  thou  hi'ing  forth  Maz- 
zaroth  iii  his  season?  or  guide  Arcturus  and  Ids  sons? 
You  are  a  child,  and  the  lessons  of  piety  are  poured  into 
your  ears.  You  are  a  youth,  and  the  Bible  is  put  into 
your  hands.  You  are  a  man,  and  resort  to  the  house  of 
God ;  and,  no  older  than  I  am,  I  am  now  preaching  to 
you  the  four  thousand  five  hundred  and  fourteenth  ser- 
mon that  I  have  been  permitted  to  preach.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  go  on  with  this  illustration.  Let  me  say,  and  ask 
you  to  remember  it,  that  there  is  no  other  class  of  truths 


THE   TRUTH   HELD   IN   UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.  75 

in  existence  which  is  so  frequently  soliciting  your  atten- 
tion as  the  truths  of  religion.  Eeligion  is  the  lesson  of 
the  universe.  God's  fingers  have  written  it  every  where. 
It  solicits  you  at  every  step,  in  every  breath,  in  every 
beating  pulse.  From  this  frequency  of  solicitation,  no- 
thing can  escape,  but  a  willing  unrighteousness.  This 
universe  of  truths,  this  life  of  lessons,  would  gather 
every  body  into  heaven,  if  every  body  was  willing  to  be 
right.  Ko  other  thing  has  any  thing  like  such  frequency 
of  suggestion  to  the  human  mind  as  the  subject  of  religion. 

9.  li^  felicity  in  obedience.  If  it  made  men  miserable, 
we  could  not  so  readily  expect  men  to  embrace  it..  But 
look  at  the  world.  Judge  for  yourself  Who  are  the 
happiest  people  ?  You  must  be  blinded  indeed  by  sin, 
if  you  can  not  see  that  even  present  felicity  is  increased 
by  obedience  to  God.  But,  go  ask  the  men  of  God. 
Moses  will  tell  you  that  he  chooses  affliction  in  godliness 
before  royalty  in  Egypt.  Paul  and  Silas  ^^dll  tell  you 
that  they  love  that  midnight  song  in  the  prison.  Ask 
where  you  will,  the  poorest,  lowest,  most  miserable  dis- 
ciple of  Jesus  Christ  on  earth,  and  he  will  tell  you  that 
he  would  not  exchange  the  felicity  of  his  hope  in  God 
for  all  your  wealth,  and  pride,  and  power,  could  give  him. 
Why,  then,  will  not  you  be  a  Christian  ?  You  would  ; 
the  truths  of  Christianity  would  vanquish  mind  if  the 
heart  of  sin  would  allow  mind  to  touch  them.  That 
heart  holds  them  in  unrighteousness^  limits  their  influence, 
or  their  attraction  would  draw  every  living  sinner  to  the 
felicities  of  forgiveness. 

10.  Its  adapted  motives ;  and, 

11.  Its  striking  arguments.  (We  are  compelled  to 
fling  away  half  our  materials,  and,  even  then,  blend 
these  two  ideas  together.)     Adapted  motives — striking 


76  THE   TRUTH  HELD   IN   UNRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

arguments.  That  the  motives  of  religion  are  most  per- 
fectly adapted  to  our  condition,  and  that  its  arguments 
for  acceptance  is  most  striking,  need  scarcely  be  men- 
tioned to  a  dying  man.  Death  is  an  idea  which  strikes 
the  mind  as  no  other  earthly  idea  does ;  and  death  is  a 
motive  for  religion.  Religion  changes  death  from  an 
enemy  into  a  friend.  He  comes  to  the  believer  only  to 
put  him  into  the  arms  of  Jesus  Jehovah,  while  his  stiff- 
ened lips  are  saying,  Come^  Lord  Jesus,  come  quichly. 

It  is  a  striking  idea,  that  all  these  living  bodies  of  this 
great  congregation,  now  animate  with  life,  and  elasticity, 
and  vigor,  shall  be  crumbled  down  into  the  dust ;  and, 
after  moldering  among  the  clods  of  the  valley,  shall  be 
flung  up,  perhaps,  by  the  spade  of  the  grave-digger,  and 
scattered  to  the  winds  !  But  what  a  motive  for  religion  1 
God  shall  gather  the  scattered  particles.  The  resurrec- 
tion morning  shall  reanimate  the  believer's  body ;  while 
those  that  have  done  evil  shall  come  forth  from  their 
graves  to  shame  and  everlasting  contempt — the  resurrection 
of  damnation ! 

If  some  visitant,  from  some  distant  planet  where  sin 
never  was,  should  light  on  this  miserable  world,  proba- 
bly nothing  would  strike  him  more  forcibly,  than  the 
wants  and  the  woes  that  are  in  it.  That  is  a  striking 
idea.  Strange,  strange  world!  Fears  fill  it!  Tears 
are  streaming  from  the  eyes  of  its  inhabitants  !  Hearts 
bleed !  And,  as  this  race  of  humanity  tread  on,  covered 
with  crape,  towards  the  spot  where  they  have  buried 
their  kindred,  the  most  awful  of  all  ideas  is  the  anger  of 
God — after  death  the  judgment!  But  how  adapted  the 
motives  of  religion  here.  Religion  tells  you,  too,  of 
the  strangest  things  in  the  universe.  One  is,  that  God 
can  forgive  a  sinner,  and  love  him,  and  save  him!     The 


THE   TRUTH  HELD   IN"   UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.  77 

otlier  is,  that  if  the  sinner  will  accept  his  love  and  his 
Son,  all  his  miseries,  from  that  very  moment,  shall  be 
turned  into  mercies;  he  never  shall  have  a  sorrow  too 
deep,  or  shed  a  tear  too  much,  or  die  too  painfully,  or  too 
quick !  A II  things  shall  work  together  for  his  good.  God 
will  lead  him  to  heaven  in  the  best  way. 

For  my  part,  I  can  not,  after  repeated  trials,  think  of 
any  other  subject  which  has  such  striking  arguments 
for  attention,  as  religion  has  ;  or  think  of  a  single  point, 
wherein  its  motives  are  not  perfectly  adapted  to  such  a 
creature  as  man.  Why,  then,  does  not  man  attend  to 
it,  and  yield  to  the  motives  which  grace  brings  down 
to  his  miseries,  his  sin  and  his  sepulcher,  and  stretches 
out  on  the  bosom  of  eternity  bej^ond  it  ?  There  is  but 
one  answer,  and  the  old  one :  these  truths  are  held  in 
righteousness.  Nothing,  nothing  but  wickedness  hinders 
their  influence  from  urging  every  dying  sinner  to  repent- 
ance and  salvation.  AVho  can  doubt,  that  this  sturdy 
rebellion  needs  the  direct  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God  ? 

Finally ;  \h.Q  feeble  antagonists  of  this  truth.  The  rejec- 
tion of  true  religion  would  not  be  so  wonderful,  if  the 
things  which  oppose  it  were  not  of  such  meanness. 
Wherever  you  find  them,  you  find  they  are  little  in 
themselves,  mere  trifles,  the  veriest  dreams. 

We  have  already  alluded  to  that  infidelity,  which 
openly  denies  the  truth  of  Christianity,  and  whose  most 
gifted  champions,  in  every  chapter  of  their  arguments, 
expose  either  their  contemptible  ignorance,  like  Herbert 
and  Bolingbroke,  or  their  intentional  falsehood,  like 
Paine  and  Gibbon,  or  both  ignorance  and  falsehood 
together,  like  every  flippant  fool,  who  glories  in  dogma- 
tizing over  others,  as  weak  and  wicked  as  himself  All 
these  have  expended  their  force,  and  the  strongholds  of 


78     THE  TRUTH  HELD  IN  UNRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

Christianity  are  unsliaken.  A  mere  scliolar  in  the 
Sunday-school  can  often  confute  the  champions  of  infi- 
delity. But  that  opposition  to  true  religion,  which  is 
most  influential,  is  to  be  found  in  the  pleasures  and  prom- 
ises of  sin.  And,  let  any  man  think,  what  are  these  ? 
How  strong  an  argument  for  irreligion  do  you  find  in 
the  oaths  that  come  from  the  blasphemer's  lips  ?  in  the 
dishonesty,  which  ends  usually  in  disgTace  and  prison  ? 
in  the  rags,  poverty,  and  death,  of  the  drunkard  ?  in  the 
little  and  vanishing  pleasure  of  the  theater,  the  dance, 
the  honors  of  ambition,  and  the  coveted  wealth  of  the 
world  ?  For  these,  and  things  like  these,  men  neglect 
religion !  And  what  do  they  gain  ?  What  does  any 
sinner  on  earth  gain,  that  ought  to  weigh  a  feather  in 
that  scale  of  judgment,  whereby  he  decides  for  the  pres- 
ent against  religion,  and  concludes  to  live  on,  without 
prayer,  without  piety,  and  without  Christ?  Hearer, 
what  are  you  gaining,  for  which  you  continue  to  offend 
God,  and  expose,  every  moment,  your  immortal  spirit  to 
his  final  anger  ?  What  would  you  lose^  if  you  should 
now  obey  God  and  live  ?  Ponder  it,  ponder  it  well  I  It 
does  seem  to  me,  that  one  of  the  most  marvellous  things 
in  the  universe  is  this,  how  a  rational  being  can,  for  all 
that  sin,  and  Satan,  and  the  world  can  give  him,  neglect, 
for  a  single  hour,  to  set  his  heart  fully  to  seek  God  !  Is 
he  rational  ?  Is  he  720^  a  madman  or  a  fool  ?  See  what 
trifles  he  is  after !  what  dreams !  what  bubbles !  what 
vanishing  visions  !  what  nothings !  And  these  are  the 
antagonists  of  religion !  For  these  he  lives  !  for  these  he 
dies  for  ever,  smitten  with  the  frost  of  the  second  death ! 
Truth  would  have  saved  him,  if  his  wicked  heart  had 
allowed  it. 

We  have  done.     As  much  as  possible,  we  have  con- 


THE  TEUTH  HELD   IN   UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.  79 

densed  tliese  articles,  and  the  argument  is  closed.  It 
shows,  that  there  is  no  defect  in  religious  truth  ;  and  the 
rejection  of  the  religion  of  Christ,  of  pardon,  of  holiness, 
and  heaven,  is  to  be  accounted  for  only  on  the  ground 
of  a  sinner's  own  loved  and  voluntary  wickedness  of 
heart.  Let  the  rejecters  remember,  that  the  ivroili  of  God 
is  revealed  from  heaven  against  all  unrighteousness  and  un- 
godliness  of  men^  who  hold  the  truth  in  unrighteousness. 

My  hearers,  you  ought  not  to  reject  this  truth  and  its 
salvation.  Be  persuaded  to  yield  to  it.  In  order  to 
eternal  life,  this  truth  must  prevail.  You  must  heed  it. 
It  must  conquer  your  mind,  and  heart,  and  will,  through 
the  Holy  Ghost,  and  lead  you  in  a  new  and  living  way. 
It  is  the  instrument  of  all  the  good  that  God  has  to 
bestow  upon  sinners.  Sanctify  them  through  thy  truth, 
thy  word  is  truth,  is  a  passage  in  the  Saviour's  prayer. 

For  proclaiming  this  truth,  this  ministry  exists,  and 
we  come  here  this  day  to  set  over  you,  in  the  gospel  of 
Jesus  Christ,  the  man  of  your  own  choice.'^*  With  his 
full  heart's  consent  we  give  him  to  jou,  in  the  name  of 
our  God  and  your  God,  our  Father  and  your  Father.  We 
know  he  will  be  an  able  and  faithful  minister  of  the 
Kew  Testament.  We  know  he  will  love  you  ;  and  both 
our  faith  and  our  knowledge  of  you  would  be  at  fault, 
if  we  did  not  add,  we  know"  you  wdll  love  him. 

Come,  hear  his  words.  Standing  on  the  high  vantage- 
ground  of  this  truthful  Gospel,  with  trained  mind  and 
holy  lips,  he  wdll  demonstrate  to  you  the  justice  and  the 
mercy  of  God.  He  will  tell  you  the  best  news  your  ears 
can  hear.  He  w^ill  prove  to  you  that  God  loves  to  save 
sinners,  loves  to  forgive  them,  to  adopt  them  into  his 

*  Preached  at  the  instaUation  ol  Rev.  J.  M.  Sherwood,  at  Bloomfield,  N.  J., 
nnd  also  at  the  installation  of  Rev.  Wm.  Van  Dyke.^  at  Brooklyn. 


80  THE   TEUTH   HELD   IX    UXRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

famHy,  and  invite  tliem  to  pour  tlieir  sorrows  into  his 
bosom.  He  will  render  yon  familiar  witli  such  names 
as  Bethlehem,  and  Bethanj^,  and  Nazareth,  and  Jerusa- 
lem ;  and,  pointing  j^ou  to  the  blood-dyed  wood,  the 
vinegar  and  the  gall,  the  nails  and  the  spear,  he  will 
demonstrate  to  you  that  the  most  needless  of  all  calami- 
ties in  the  universe  is  the  loss  of  a  poor  sinner's  soul ! 
He  will  go  with  you  along  the  path  where  Joseph  of 
Arimathea  bore  the  mangled  body  of  the  Son  of  God, 
and  lead  you  down  among  the  bloom  and  roses  of  that 
garden  where  there  was  a  sepulcher.  And  then,  leading 
you  away  over  Mount  Olivet  to  Bethany,  and  pointing 
you  to  the  glory  that  lingers  around  the  ascension-track 
of  the  Eedeemer  of  men,  he  will  aim  to  conquer  you  by 
the  love  of  God,  and  allure  you  up  to  brighter  worlds 
on  high.     His  argument  v/ill  defy  your  despair ; 

"/S'ayW/  the  deed  shall  spread  new  glory 

O'er  the  crowds,  the  throne  above ; 
Angels  tell  that  blissful  story, 
A  sinner  sav'd — our  God  is  love." 

And,  having  pointed  you  to  that  bright  ascension-track, 
he  will  invite  your  ear  to  listen  to  that  mingled  melody 
that  comes  floating  down  from  the  lips  of  saints  and  the 
lyres  of  angels — ■ 

"From  the  highest  throne  of  glory 

To  the  cross  of  deepest  woe, 
All  to  ransom  guilty  captives — 
Flow  my  praise,  for  ever  flow." 

Would  you  go  up  in  that  bright  track,  and  join  in  that 
happy  song?  Come  in  hither  from  Sabbath  to  Sabbath, 
and  hear  the  minister  we  give  to  you  to-da}^  From  the 
Bible  truth,  if  you  will  not  hold  it  in  unrighteousness^  he 


THE  TRUTH  HELD   IN  UNRIGHTEOUSNESS.  81 

will  give  you  sucli  consolations  as  dying  sinners  need — 
as  deathless  spirits  long  for. 

Come  here,  ye  guilty  children  of  the  fall,  be  made 
heirs  of  God,  and  joint-heirs  with  Jesus  Christ. 

Come  here,  ye  pious,  love  truth  more,  and  Jesus  Christ 
more.  Pour  your  prayers  around  these  altars,  and 
depart  with  the  song,  /  shall  he  satisfied^  when  I  awake 
with  thy  likeness. 

Come  here,  ye  worldly,  never-satisfied  and  often  mis- 
erable ;  let  this  Gospel  of  truth  correct  your  error — love 
not  the  world^  neither  the  things  that  are  in  the  world. 

Ye  rich,  often-tempted,  and  tried,  and  miserable,  bit- 
terly learning  how  hard  it  is  for  a  rich  man  to  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  God ;  come,  hear  this  truthful  Gospel ; 
it  shall  tell  you  of  durahle  riches^  even  righteousness.  Ye 
may  be  saved,  for  with  God  all  things  are  possible. 

Ye  poor,  oppressed  with  daily  toil,  and  afflicted  and 
tearful,  come,  hear  this  Gospel,  for  God  hath  chosen  the 
poor  of  this  tuorldj  rich  infaith^  and  heirs  of  the  kingdom. 

Ye  strangers,  separated  from  the  homes  and  churches 
of  your  childhood,  while 

"  Mountaius  rise,  and  oceans  roll  between," 

we  invite  you  to  this  house  of  God,  and  the  hopes  of 
this  Gospel.  Though  you  worship  not  by  the  altars  of 
your  fathers,  and  may  not  sleep  beside  them  in  the 
sepulcher,  come,  learn  righteousness^  and  you  shall  meet 
the  whole  family  of  your  pious  kindred  in  heaven. 

Come,  ye  ignorant,  this  Gospel  is  for  you.  The 
words  of  Christ  shall  teach  you,  shall  dissipate  your 
darkness,  and  bring  the  balm  of  comfort  to  your 
troubled  bosoms. 

Come,    blooming    youth,    this    message   is   for   you; 


82  THR   TRUTH  HELD  IN   UNRIGHTEOUSNESS. 

come,  make  your  home  in  this  house  of  God  ;  its  minis- 
try will  proclaim  to  you  the  promise :  those  that  seek  me 
early  shall  find  me. 

Come,  little  children,  the  Gospel  is  for  you ;  here  you 
shall  be  told  of  that  Saviour  who  took  little  children  in 
his  arms  and  blessed  them,  and  said,  Suffer  little  children 
to  come  unto  me,  and  forhid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the 
kingdom  of  heaven. 

Come,  ye  aged,  trembling  with  the  palsy  of  the  tomb  I 
come  here  and  learn  your  departing  song:  Lord,  noio 
lettest  thou  thy  servant  depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have 
seen  thy  salvation. 

Come  3-0,  holding  the  truth  in  unrighteousness,  ye  pro- 
fane, ye  careless,  ye  bold  and  stout-hearted,  be  persuaded 
to  frequent  this  house  of  God,  make  you  a  new  heart  and 
a  new  sp)irit,  for  ivhy  will  ye  die?  though  your  sins  he  as 
scarlet,  they  shall  he  as  wool ;  though  they  he  red  like  crim- 
son, they  shall  he  made  whiter  than  snow. 

Come,  any  sinner,  of  any  condition,  any  dying  mortal, 
come ;  yield  up  your  unrighteousness ;  this  Gospel  shall 
pour .  words  of  comfort  upon  your  ear.  Obey  it,  and 
you  shall  pass  through  life's  trials,  and  through  death's 
dark  stream,  sweetly  singing,  In  the  time  of  troulAe  HE 
shall  hide  me  in  Bl^  pavilion  ;  in  the  secret  of  his  tahernacle 
shall  he  hide  me. 

God  grant  these  blessings  here,  dwelling  in  these 
courts,  henceforth  and  for  ever.     Amen. 


Thus  saith  the  Lord,  The  heaven  is  my  throne,  and  the  earth  is  my  foot- 
stool. "Where  is  the  house  that  ye  build  unto  me  ?  And  where  is  the  place 
of  my  rest  ?— Isaiah,  Ixvi.  1. 

TT  is  often  beneficial,  when  we  are  studying  tlie  sacred 
■*-  Scriptures,  to  examine  minutely  all  the  circumstances 
under  which,  the  part  we  would  understand  was  penned. 
Such  circumstances  may  throw  light  upon  the  text. 
They  may  explain  its  imagery,  and  thus  give  it  a  vivid- 
ness and  force  unseen  before ;  and  they  may  unfold  its 
design,  and  thus  guide  us  into  a  just  application  of  it. 
But  this  is  rather  the  office  of  the  scholar,  than  of  the 
preacher.  The  Apostles,  Jesus  Christ  himself,  seldom 
labored  much  on  the  circumstances  of  the  passages  the}" 
quoted  from  the  Old  Testament,  if  we  may  judge  from 
the  specimens  of  their  preaching  recorded  in  the  New. 
They  took  the  fact,  the  command,  or  the  promise,  as  it 
stood,  and,  without  any  elaborate  display  of  scholarship, 
employed  it  for  the  purpose  in  hand. 

We  now  follow  their  examjole.  We  have  not  time 
for  any  thing  more  than  an  attempt  to  lead  you  to 
understand  and  apply  the  sentiment  expressed  in  this 
text. 

Please  to  notice  the  subject  of  remark  here,  and  the 
manner  in  which  it  is  remarked  upon. 

The  subject  of  remark  is,  God  himself.     TIjq  prophet 


Si  THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF   GOD. 

is  sent  to  exclaim,  Thus  scnth  the  Lord,  the  heaven  is  my 
throne,  the  earth  is  my  footstool.  The  attention  is  turned 
simply  to  God — ^his  grandeur,  Lis  magnificence,  if  you 
please,  his  immensity,  his  omnipresence.  He  abides  in 
heaven,  he  puts  the  earth  under  his  feet. 

The  manner  in  which  the  remark  about  God  is  con- 
ducted, is  that  of  a  kind  of  contrast  betwixt  him  and 
men.  Where  is  the  house  that  ye  huild  unto  me,  and 
ivhere  is  the  place  of  my  rest?  God  is  unlike  man.  He 
challenges  any  comparison.  The  heaven,  even  the  heaven 
of  heavens,  can  not  contain  him.  Ancient  kings  aimed 
often  to  impress  their  subjects  with  an  idea  of  their  mag- 
nificence, and  surrounded  themselves  with  a  solemn  and 
salutary  av/e,  by  rearing  palaces  of  the  most  imposing 
splendor  and  magnificence.  They  wished  to  overawe 
the  multitude.  On  this  ground,  God  himself  seems  to 
have  ordered  the  unequaled  grandeur  of  the  ancient 
temple.  But  in  doing  it,  he  took  care  that  its  dazzling 
beauty  and  stateliness  should  only  be  an  aid,  a  stepping- 
stone,  to  assist  the  imagination  in  its  upward  reach 
towards  the  grandeur  of  God.  In  the  prayer  of  the 
dedication,  Solomon's  devotion  soars  infinitely  above  the 
temple.  Here,  the  majesty  of  God,  and  the  littleness  of 
man,  stand  side  by  side.  After  mentioning  the  earth 
and  the  heaven,  God  says.  All  these  things  hath  my  hand 
made. 

But  yet,  lest  dread  should  too  much  terrify  the  wor- 
shiper, or  a  high  and  just  idea  of  God's  infinite  majesty 
should  lead  the  humble  into  the  error  of  supposing  that 
such  an  august  Being  would  not  regard  such  an  insig- 
nificant creature  as  man,  he  adds,  To  this  man  ivill  I 
look,  even  to  him  that  is  poor  and  of  a  contrite  spirit,  and 
tremhleth  at  my  luord.     A  turn  of  thought  well  worthy 


THE   MAGNIFICEXCE   OF   GOD.  85 

of  our  admiration.  A  contrite  sinner  has  nothing  to 
fear  from  God.  His  very  majesty  need  not  terrify  him. 
Indeed,  his  majesty  constitutes  the  very  ground  for  his 
encouragement.  It  can  condescend.  It  operates  hy 
condescension.  Just  as  much  does  the  King  of  kings 
and  Lord  of  lords  glorify  himself,  when  he  consoles,  by 
the  whisperings  of  his  Spirit,  the  poorest  and  most 
unworthy  sinner  that  ever  felt  the  pangs  of  a  bruised 
heart,  as  when  he  thunders  in  the  heavens  as  the  Most 
High^  and  gives  his  voice^  hail-stones  and  coals  of  fire. 
With  this  idea,  sinners  should  approach  him  and  medi- 
tate his  grandeur.  In  his  kindness,  in  his  pardoning 
mercy,  in  his  condescensions  of  grace,  he  displays  the 
ineffable  majesty  of  his  Godhead — reaching  as  far  down 
to  a  penitent  creature's  littleness,  as  he  reaches  up  above 
his  imagination. 

First,  therefore,  we  direct  your  attention  to  the  style 
of  the  text.  What  we  mean  is  this :  God  speaks  of  him- 
self. He  seems  to  aim  to  fix  the  mind  on  Him  as  the 
subject  of  contemplation.  The  heaven  is  my  throne,  the 
earth  is  r)iy  footstool  This  style  of  religious  address  is 
especially  common  in  the  Scriptures.  We  dare  not  un- 
dertake to  describe  it,  and  descant  upon  it.  We  can 
only  give  the  fact  in  the  language  which  no  mortal  pen 
has  ever  yet  equaled,  or  ever  will.  There  is  something 
peculiar  in  this. 

Hear  David,  when,  in  a  style  resembling  the  text,  his 
mind  soars  to  God:  0,  Lord,  thou  has  searched  me  and 
known  me.  Thou  hnowest  my  down-sitting  and  mine  up- 
rising:    thou    imderstandest   my   thought   afar   off.  ...  . 

Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit  f  or  luhither  shall  I  flee 
from  thy  presence^     Lf  I  ascend  up  into  heaven,  thou  art 

there;  if  I  make  my  bed  in  hell,  behold,  thou  art  there.     If 


86  THE   MAGNIFICENCE  OF   GOD. 

I  take  the  loings  of  the  morning^  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost 
parts  of  the  sea;  even  there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me^  and  thy 
right  hand  shall  hold  rue.  If  I  say^  surely  the  darkness 
shall  cover  me;  even  the  night  shall  he  light  about  me. 
Yea,  the  darkness  hideth  not  from  thee :  hut  the  night  shineth 
as  the  day,  and  the  darkness  and  the  light  are  both  alike  to 
thee.  For  thou  has  possessed  my  reins;  thou  has  covered  me 
in  my  mother'' s  luomh.  I  will  praise  thee,  for  I  am  fearfully 
and  wonderfully  made:  marvelous  are  thy  works,  and  that 
my  soul  knoweth  right  luell.  What  a  chapter  upon  God  I 
what  an  amazing  chapter  ! 

Hear  Job  :  I  have  heard  of  thee  by  the  ear;  but  now  mine 
eye  seeth  thee.  Wherefore  I  abhor  'myself  and  repent  in 
dust  and  ashes.  Again  hear  him  :  Camst  thou  by  searching 
find  out  God?  canst  thou  find  out  the  Almighty  to  perfec- 
tion ?  As  high  as  heaven ;  ivhat  canst  thou  do  f  deeper 
than  hell ;  what  canst  thou  know  ?  (xi.  7,  8.)  Hell  is  naked 
before  him,  and  destruction  hath  no  covering.  He  stretcheth 
out  the  north  over  the  empty  place,  and  hangeth  the  earth 
upon  nothing.  He  bindeth  up  the  ivaters  in  his  thick  clouds^ 
and  the  cloud  is  not  rent  under  them.  .  .  .  The  pillars  of 
heaven  tremble,  and  are  astonished  at  his  reproof.  .  .  .  Lo, 
these  are  parts  of  his  ivays  ;  but  how  little  a  portion  is  heard 
of  him?  but  the  thunder  of  his  power  loho  can  understand? 
(xxvi.  6-14.)  Gird  up  now  thy  loins  like  a  man  ;  for  I 
loill  demand  of  thee,  and  answer  thou  me.  Where  ivast 
thou  luhen  I  laid  the  foundations  of  the  earth  ?  .  .  .  .  when 
the  morning  stars  sang  together  and  all  the  sons  of  God 
shouted  for  joy  ?  .  .  .  Ha.st  thou  entered  into  the  springs  of 
the  sea  ?  .  .  .  hast  thou  seen  the  doors  of  the  shadow  of 
death?  Canst  thou  bind  the  sweet  influences  of  the  Pleiads? 
or  loose  the  hands  of  Orion?  canst  thou  bring  forth  Mazza- 
roth  in  his  season  ?  or  canst  thou  guide  Ai^cturus  unth   his 


THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF   GOD.  87 

sons  f  .  .  .  Canst  thou  send  ligliinings^  that  they  may  go^ 
and  say  unto  thee^  Here  we  are  ?  What  sketclies  of  God  I 
wliat  unequaled  sketclies !  How  diminutive  and  mean 
does  man  appear  before  sucli  an  incompreliensible  Being  I 

Hear  Isaiah:  Who  hath  measured  the  icaters  in  the 
hollow  of  his  handj  and  meted  out  hcaveii  ivith  a  span^ 
and  comprehended  the  dust  of  the  earth  in  a  measure^  and 
weighed  the  mountains  in  scales^  and  the  hills  in  a  balance  ? 
Who  hath  directed  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord^  or  heing  his  coun- 
selor hath  taught  him  ?  .  .  .  Behold  the  7iations  are  as  a 
drop  of  the  bucket^  and  are  counted  as  the  small  dust  of  the 
balance.     All  natioiis  before  him  are  as  nothing ;   and  they 

are  counted  to  him  less  than  nothing^  and  vanity 

He  sitteth  upon  the  circle  of  the  earth  ;  .  .  .  he  stretcheth  out 
the  heavens  as  a  curtain.  .  .  .  Why  sayest  thou,  oh  Jacob^ 
and  specdcesf,  oh  Israel,  My  way  is  hid  from  the  lord,  and 
my  judgment  is  passed  over  from  my  God?  Hast  thou  not 
known  ?  hast  thou  7iot  heard,  that  the  everlasting  God,  the 
Lord,  the  Creator  of  the  ends  of  the  earth,  fainteth  not, 
neither  is  weary  f     (Chap,  xl.) 

These  passages  all  have  a  resemblance  to  one  another ; 
and  they  all  resemble  the  text.  They  all  speak  of  God, 
and  speak  of  him  in  a  style  which  we  can  not  attempt  to 
analyze.  Their  aim  appears  to  be  two-fold.  First,  to 
lead  us  to  make  the  idea  of  God  himself  the  leading  idea 
in  religion;  to  have  it  preside  over  the  whole  system 
and  pervade  every  part  of  it ;  just  as  if  a  correct  idea  in 
religion  could  not  even  exist  without  it.  And,  second,  to 
have  this  idea,  which  we  are  to  entertain  about  God,  an 
idea  of  the  utmost  grandeur,  of  the  most  amazing  magnili- 
cence,  and  solemn  sublimity.  So  the  Divine  writers 
speak  of  God.  So  they  aim  to  have  us  filled  with  the 
awe  of  him.     So  they  place  his  ineffable  grandeur  to 


m  THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF   GOD. 

preside  over  religion  and  animate  the  whole.     This  is 
their  stjde ;  this  is  the  style  of  the  text. 

11.  The  design  they  have  in  view  can  not  easily  be 
mistaken.  They  would  give  us  just  ideas  of  God.  The 
impression  they  aim  to  make  is  simply  this,  that  God  is 
incomparably  and  inconceivably  above  us — an  infinite 
and  awful  niystery !  "We  could  name  to  you  a  philos- 
opher, (and  his  name  is  too  famous  in  history  to  be 
spoken  of  by  us  with  any  disrespect,)  who  has  maintained 
that  the  mode  in  which  men  are  to  arrive  at  the  most  just 
idea  of  God,  is  to  suppose  a  man  clothed  with  every  pos- 
sible excellence  of  character,  wisdom,  equity,  goodness, 
justics,  and  so  on  ;  and  then  to  suppose  these  excellences 
all  anited  in  the  same  being,  and  extended  and  exalted 
beyond  measure :  that  Being,  he  tells  us,  is  God.  There 
may  be  some  truth  in  this.  We  are  such  creatures  of 
littleness,  that  our  imperfections  seem  to  need  some  gra- 
dations, some  stepping-stones,  some  scaffoldings,  to  con- 
duct us  up  to  the  Deity.  And  in  the  sacred  Scriptures, 
this  mode  may  have  some  few  exemplifications.  But 
after  all,  this  is  not  their  ordinary  stjde.  More  com- 
monly, they  adopt  an  opposite  one.  At  a  single  dash 
they  portray  an  infinitude.  At  once  they  introduce  us 
to  an  infinite  mystery.  Instantly,  when  they  would  give 
us  a  just  impression  about  God,  they  bring  up  something 
to  show  that  he  is  beyond  description,  beyond  mind,  be- 
yond all  conception,  that  high  and  lofty  One  who  inhahiteth 
eternity.  This  is  their  aim.  They  form  no  comparisons. 
They  are  not  accustomed  to  conduct  us  on  httle  by  little ; 
and,  through  steps  and  resting-places,  and  measuring  of  dis- 
tances, tempt  us  to  think  that  we  have  attained  any  thing 
like  a  comprehensive  idea  of  the  Infinite  One.  They 
rather  fling  us  back  from  any  such  mental  stair-case: 


THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF   COD.  89 

High  as  heaven^  what  canst  thou  do  f  deeper  than  hell,  what 
canst  thou  know  f  They  would  impress  upon  us  tlie  in- 
conceivable and  awful  grandeur  of  God.  Just  experi- 
ence does  tlie  same  thing. 

III.  The  call,  the  necessity  oH\i\^  may  exist  on  different 
grounds. 

1.  Our  littleness.  In  the  nature  of  the  case,  there  can 
be  no  comparison  betwixt  man  and  Grod.  All  is  con- 
trast— an  infinite  contrast.  At  least,  we  arrive  at  the 
most  just  impression  by  that  mode  of  conception.  You 
can  not  form  of  human  excellences  any  measuring-line 
for  the  Deity.  You  can  not  stretch  it  along  his  character, 
and  apply  it  to  such  an  extent,  that  you  can  ever  pause 
and  say,  that  you  have  come  anj^  nearer  to  the  whole 
than  when  you  first  commenced.  After  all  you  can  do, 
there  is  still  an  infinity  beyond  you — just  as  exhaustless 
and  inconceivable  as  when  you  started.  All  you  have 
measured  is  not  God  ;  it  is  no  comparison  for  God  ;  it  is 
only  a  diminutive  little  something  which  lies  in  an  inex- 
pressible contrast  with  his  immensity  and  magnificence. 
Our  littleness  renders  this  mode  of  the  Scriptures,  of  the 
text,  necessary  to  us. 

2.  So  does  our  sinfulness.  Sin  never  exists  aside  from 
the  mind's  losing  a  just  impression  of  the  Deity;  and 
wherever  it  exists,  there  is  a  tendency  to  cleave  to  low 
and  unworthy  ideas  of  him.  Sinners  do  not  think  of 
him  justly.  Their  ideas  degrade  him.  This  is  the  cause 
of  their  rejecting  so  often  many  of  the  vital  doctrines  of 
religion,  and  neglecting  so  many  of  its  duties.  For  ex- 
ample, the  doctrines  of  human  depravity,  and  the  neces- 
sity of  being  born  again.  They  reject  these,  or  think 
lightly  and  wrongfully  of  them,  because  their  low  ideas 
of  God  have  sunk  infinitely  below  the   holiness   and 


90  THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF   GOD. 

spirituality  of  Lis  character.  They  do  not  see  their  de- 
pravity, and  see  they  must  he  horn  again^  because  they 
do  not  see  God.  Again,  for  example,  the  eternity  of 
punishment  for  the  wicked.  Men  are  staggered  on  this, 
they  doubt  it,  they  sometimes  reject  it ;  and  all  this  comes 
to  pass  because  they  have  such  imperfect  and  erroneous 
notions  of  God.  They  do  not  so  perceive  his  ineffable 
grandeur,  holiness,  and  immensity,  as  to  understand  the 
infinite  ill-desert  of  sin,  and  understand  that  any  thing 
short  of  an  eternity  of  punishment  would  only  be  a  bur- 
lesque on  God's  retributive  government.  What  is  it,  in 
our  assemblies,  where  the  solemnity  of  our  business 
ought  to  secure  a  solemnity  of  mind,  where  God  speaks 
and  we  listen,  where  hang  the  interests  of  our  immortal 
being,  interests  high  as  heaven  and  deep  as  hell ;  what 
is  it  here  that  allows  so  many  wandering  thoughts,  so 
much  levity  of  heart,  such  lack  of  homage,  and  allows 
so  many  worshipers  to  come  up  hither  without  earnest 
prayer,  and  depart  hence,  ready,  as  soon  as  they  have 
crossed  the  threshold  of  the  tabernacle,  to  take  up  their 
interest  and  employ  their  tongues  in  the  veriest  trifles  of 
a  contemptible,  little  world  ?  The  same  answer  comes 
back  upon  us.  They  have  no  just  sense  of  the  awful 
majesty  of  God,  his  magnificence,  his  ineffable  grandeur. 
Our  sinfulness  renders  the  style  of  the  Scriptures,  the 
style  of  the  text,  necessary  to  us. 

3.  So  does  our  materiality^  the  connection  of  our  minds 
with  material  and  gross  bodies.  This  connection  renders 
it  difficult  for  us  to  soar  beyond  matter.  We  are  in 
danger  of  introducing  the  imperfections  of  our  existence 
into  our  religion,  even  into  our  ideas  of  God.  Conse- 
quently, when  God  speaks  to  us  of  himself,  he  speaks  in 
a  manner  designed  to  guard  us  from  error.     He  speaks 


THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF   GOD.  91 

with  an  elevation  of  tliouglit  whicli  makes  language 
labor.  It  is  a  distinctive  mark  of  our  littleness,  depend- 
ence, and  imperfection,  when  we  are  so  united  to  matter 
that  the  east  wind  troubles  our  mind,  that  the  flesh  and 
blood  of  our  mortal  bodies  has  power  over  us,  and  often 
determines  our  purposes,  and  decides  our  happiness  or 
misery,  not  to  say  virtue  or  vice.  What  more  distinct 
mark  could  we  have  of  our  dependence,  of  our  creature 
condition,  of  our  helplessness,  than  when  we  find  our- 
selves insecure  against  the  very  dust  which  rises  from 
the  footsteps  of  the  passing  traveler,  and  may  put  out 
our  eyes  ?  when  the  sun  may  smite  us  by  day  and  the 
moon  by  night  ?  when  the  change  of  a  few  particles  of 
matter  in  our  blood  or  in  our  brain,  over  which  we  have 
no  control,  and  which  we  can  not  even  understand,  has 
an  effect  to  fill  our  bosoms  with  hope  or  sadden  them 
into  despondency  and  gloom  ?  We  are  such  creatures, 
such  beings  connected  with  matter.  Being  such,  it  is 
very  dif&cult  for  us  to  rise  above  the  influences  of  our 
condition  upon  our  religious  conceptions.  We  are  prone 
to  feel  them  even  in  our  conceptions  of  God.  Conse- 
quently, few  things  are  more  labored  in  the  Scriptures 
than  the  attempt  to  lift  us  above  this.  God  will  not 
alloy/  us  to  think  of  him  as  we  think  of  ourselves.  We 
build  houses  to  dwell  in.  He  says  to  us.  The  heaven  is 
my  throne^  and  the  earth  is  my  footstool.  Where  is  the 
house  ye  build  unto  me  ?  We  are  limited  to  the  world. 
We  can  not  get  foothold  or  resting  spot  any  where  else. 
We  are  circumscribed  within  very  narrow  limits.  But 
God  asks  us.  Where  is  the  place  of  MY  rest  f  He  would 
elevate  our  conceptions  of  him  above  matter,  beyond  it, 
out  of  the  reach  of  its  bounds.  And  even  when,  in  ac- 
commodation to  our  material  connection,  he  speaks  of 


92  THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF   GOD. 

himself  as  possessing  a  resemblance  to  any  of  our  faculties 
or  qualities,  so  that  we  may  be  able  to  have  some  little 
glimpse  of  his  ineffable  grandeur,  he  does  it  in  a  mode  to 
carry  a  caution  along  with  it,  and  give  us,  after  all,  more 
the  impression  of  a  contrast  than  of  a  comparison  ;  and  an 
impression  of  himself,  as  a  high  and  incomprehensible 
spirit.  Listen  to  him.  If  he  speaks  of  his  eyes,  they  are 
eyes  that  run  to  and  fro  through  the  earth  ;  eyes  to  which 
the  darkness  and  the  light  are  both  alihe^  to  which  night 
shineth  as  the  day.  If  he  speaks  of  his  feet,  they  are 
feet  before  which  burning  coals  go  forth  when  he  moves ; 
and  when  he  rests,  which  reach  from  the  throne  of  his 
loftiness  to  the  earth — heaven  is  my  throne^  and  the 
earth  my  footstool.  If  he  mentions  his  hands,  they  are 
hands  which  take  up  the  isles  as  a  very  little  thing^  which 
mete  out  the  heavens  as  a  span^  which  iceigh  the  mountains 
iji  scales  and  the  hills  in  a  balance,  which  measure  the 
waters  of  the  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  If  he  men- 
tions his  voice,  it  is  a  Yoice  full  of  majesty,  which  divideth 
tlie  flames  of  fire,  which  shakes  the  heavens,  which  wakes 
the  thunder,  which  wields  the  lightning,  which  breaketh 
the  cedars  of  Lebanon,  which  maketh  them  skip  like  a  calf 
and  maketli  Lebanon  and  Sirion  skip  like  a  young  iinicorn. 
"Wonderful  imagery !  amazing  grandeur  and  magnifi- 
cence !  God  would  evidently  fill  us  with  an  awe  of  him, 
and  represent  himself  to  our  conceptions  as  unutterably 
above  us,  ineffably  unlike  man,  an  amazing  and  incom- 
prehensible Spirit.  The  influences  of  our  bodily  condi- 
tion render  this  style  of  the  Scriptures  necessar3^ 

4.  So  does  the  nature  of  God.  Man  is  only  a  creature. 
He  owes  his  existence  to  a  cause  without  him.  That 
cause  still  rules  him.  That  cause  allows  him  to  know 
but  little,  and  often  drops  the  veil  of  an  impenetrable 


THE   MAGNIFICEITCE   OF  GOD.  93 

darkness  before  his  e3^es  just  at  tlie  point,  the  very  point, 
where  he  is  most  desirous  to  look  further,  and  it  drops 
the  veil  there,  in  order  to  do  him  the  two-fold  office  of 
convincing  him  of  the  grandeur  of  God  and  his  own 
littleness,  and  of  compelling  him,  under  the  influence  of 
those  convictions,  to  turn  back  to  a  light  which  concerns 
him,  more  than  the  darkness  beyond  the  veil  can,  to  a 
light,  where  are  wrapped  up  the  duties  and  interests  of 
his  immortal  soul.  God  would  repress  his  curiosity,  and 
make  him  use  his  conscience.  Therefore,  he  makes 
darkness  preach  to  him.  Therefore,  he  speaks  of  him- 
self in  a  mode  to  admonish  every  student  of  his  perfec- 
tions, that  he  must  not  think  of  God  as  he  thinks  of 
himself,  but  must  think  of  him  as  un-caused,  self-exist- 
ent, and  eternal — as  having  no  derived  ideas,  but  as 
having  such  an  infinite  supremacy  that  he  has  no  need 
to  observe  any  thing,  in  order  to  knoAv  every  thing:  in 
his  own  mind  were  treasured  eternally  the  models  of  all 
that  exist.  Hence,  the  mode  in  which  God  speaks  to 
man  of  himself  is  demanded  by  the  nature  of  his  perfec- 
tions. His  essence,  the  efficiency  of  his  will,  his  spirit- 
uality, his  supremacy,  his  justice,  his  mercy,  all  that 
belongs  to  him,  demand  the  ideas  of  amazement,  mag- 
nificence, and  grandeur — the  idea  of  the  text,  which  we 
dare  not  attempt  to  explain,  but  only  cite  other  passages 
to  exemplify. 

TV.  But  we  must  stop  on  the  borders  of  this  ocean  of 
thought.  We  have  only  taken  a  little  glimpse  :  Let  us 
make  some  little  application. 

We  have  seen  that  God  would  impress  our  minds 
with  an  idea  of  his  amazing  grandeur — that  this  object 
governs  the  style  in  which  he  speaks  of  himself  to  us. 
Hence, 


94  THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF  GOD. 

1.  Let  us  be  admonished  to  apj)roacli  the  study  of 
religion  with  an  awe  and  solemnity  of  mind  which 
belongs  to  it.  It  is  the  study  of  God  ;  it  is  the  science 
of  his  infinite  perfections.  He  himself  has  emblazoned 
it  before  us,  as  we  have  seen,  wrapped  in  the  dark 
grandeur  of  an  amazing  imagery !  Evidently  he  would 
make  us  tremble.  The  voice  comes  from  the  burning 
bush,  draw  not  nigh  liithev^  'put  off  thy  shoes  from  off  thy 
feet^  for  the  ground  whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground. 
How  unlike  all  other  subjects  is  religion  !  How  differ- 
ently we  should  approach  it !  How  little  should  we 
expect  to  prosper  in  it,  in  the  mode  whereby  we 
prosper  in  other  studies;  and  make  genius,  judgment, 
and  sagacity,  and  the  talents  of  discrimination,  percept 
tion,  and  other  faculties,  contribute  to  our  success,  on 
the  same  principles  as  they  contribute  to  it  in  other 
studies !  No,  never !  never !  The  first  impression 
should  be  a  solemn  awe,  mingled  with  a  deep  sense  of 
our  own  insignificance  and  sin.  No  sinner  need  expect 
to  understand  religion  without  this.  No  sinner  need 
expect  to  find  his  pathway  up  to  the  Cross,  without  the 
aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Never  did  a  mind  take  a  more 
unreasonable,  more  un appropriate,  more  unpromising 
course,  than  does  that  sinner  who  studies  religion  without 
prayer !  Fall  on  your  knees,  mortal  man !  Prostrate 
yourself  in  dust,  and  lift  up  your  imploring  cry  to  the 
Infinite  One,  or  you  can  not  have  either  the  attitude  or 
the  spirit  which  belongs  to  the  subject,  and  without 
which  all   your  endeavors  will  be  vain  ! 

2.  This  mode  in  which  God  teaches  us — this  grandeur 
and  magnificence  which  belong  to  him — ought  to  re« 
move  a  very  common  difficulty  from  our  minds,  and 
prepare  us  to  receive  in  faith,  those  deep  and  dark  doc- 


THE  MAGNIFICENCE   OF  GOD.  95 

trines,  wliose  mystery  is  so  apt  to  stagger  us.  What 
can  we  expect  ?  God,  the  infinite  God,  is  the  presiding 
genius  of  religion.  Keligion  takes  all  its  nature  from 
his  nature.  Eeligion  is  what  it  is,  simply  because  God 
is  such  a  Being  as  he  is.  If  it  had  no  depths  about 
it,  it  would  therefore  be  false :  it  would  neither  come 
from  God;  nor  conduct  to  him :  it  would  be  infinitely 
unlike  him,  and  would  cultivate  in  us  a  set  of  ideas  and 
impressions,  which  would  be  an  infinite  insult  to  his 
amazing  magnificence. 

It  would  be  superstition,  indeed,  if  we  were  to  receive 
a  doctrine,  simply  because  it  was  deep  and  mysterious. 
But  to  reject  it,  for  such  a  reason,  when  God  hath  re- 
vealed it,  is  infinitely  unreasonable.  Deep  it  must  be,  if 
it  comes  from  God,  accords  with  God,  or  conducts  us 
towards  him.  As  we  contemplate  the  grandeur  of  God, 
as  we  look  out  on  that  boundless  ocean,  without  a  bottom 
or  shore,  nothing  should  surprise  us,  nothing  make  our 
faith  stagger,  if  God  has  spoken  it.  Once  lost  in  his  im- 
mensity, and  flung  into  our  just  place,  by  a  just  idea  of 
his  inconceivable  greatness ;  we  can  not  but  understand, 
that  religion  can  not  teach  us  a  single  lesson  about  God, 
unless  it  teaches  something  beyond  our  abilities  fully  to 
comprehend.  A  reasonable  mind  will  be  willing  to 
stand  on  the  borders  of  this  vast  ocean,  amazed  and 
awed !  After  this — after  God's  magnificence,  what  word 
of  God  shall  stagger  us  ?  After  this — three  persons  in 
one  God- — the  efficiency  of  a  Divine  control  closely 
linked  with  man's  perfect  freedom — election  linked  with 
human  accountability — the  incarnation  of  the  Son — ^the 
love  to  sinners  which  prompted  it — Divine  justice  satis- 
fied with  a  Divine  atonement — none  of  these  mysteries 
will  trouble  a  reasonable  mind  ;  it  will  be  willing  to  let 


96  THE  MAGNIFICENCE   OF   GOD. 

God  he  God ;  and  standing,  amazed,  but  comforted  and 
satisfied,  on  the  borders  of  this  fathomless  ocean  of  truth, 
will  be  willing  to  exclaim,  OA,  the  depth  of  the  riches^  both 
of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God ;  how  unsearchoMe  are 
his  judgments^  and  his  ivays  fast  finding  out.  On  the 
infinite  field  of  religion  we  are  to  expect  the  foot-prints 
of  an  infinite  God. 

8.  Since  God  is  so  vast  a  being,  how  deep  should  be 
our  humility  !  Proud  man  I  what  art  thou  ?  an  insect, 
an  atom,  a  worm  of  the  dust !  a  vapor !  a  nothing  I 

4.  How  deep  should  be  our  homage !  At  what  an 
inconceivable  distance  is  God  above  us !  We  may 
approach  him  for  ever,  and  be  no  nearer!  With  an 
unlimited  awe  it  becomes  us  to  regard  him  !  The  spec- 
ulative worshiper,  who  examines  here  his  truth  as  he 
would  examine  a  question  of  trade,  or  science — the  for- 
mal worshiper,  with  heart  untouched  and  unamazed— 
the  fashionable  worshiper,  here  tempted  to  allow  his 
thoughts  to  rove  on  every  vanity — these  must  depart 
from  these  courts  under  a  cloud,  if  not  under  a  curse  ! 
What  are  they  doing?  What  ideas  and  impressions 
have  they  of  God  ?  Let  them  laugh  at  the  thunder — 
let  them  play  with  the  lightning — let  them  dance  to  the 
bowlings  of  the  hurricane  and  over  the  heavings  of  the 
earthquake ;  and  none  of  this  shall  be  so  un appropriate, 
or  so  untasteful  and  stupid,  as  their  presence  here,  with- 
out a  deep  reverence  for  God,  without  the  spirit  of 
solemnity  and  supiDlication. 

5.  The  greatness  of  God  should  gauge  the  depth  of 
our  repentance.  Our  sin  is  against  him.  It  has  pro- 
voked him.  It  has  insulted  his  infinite  majesty.  It  has 
poured  contempt  upon  his  law,  that  law  which  pro- 
ceeded from  his  infinite  rectitude  ;  and,  while  it  continues 


THE   MAGNIFICENCE   OF   GOD.  97 

witliout  repentance  and  turning  to  God,  it  pours  con- 
tempt upon  his  love,  that  love  which  produced  the 
flowing  blood  of  his  Son ! 

6.  The  greatness  of  God  should  invite  our  faith.  His 
greatness  is  so  vast,  that  we  know  he  can  condescend  to 
Tis :  he  can  over-step  every  barrier,  and  reach  down 
to  every  depth.  Sin,  do  thy  worst — law,  muster  thy 
thunders — hell,  make  thy  claims ;  if  God  he  for  us,  who 
can  be  against  us  ? 

7.  The  magnificence  of  God  should  be  a  motive  to  our 
service.  He  is  able  to  turn  our  smallest  services  to  an 
infinite  account.  He  will.  It  will  not  be  long  before 
the  poor  disciple,  who  has  nothing  else  to  give,  shall 
stand  before  the  great  luhite  throne,  and  hear  the  King  say 
unto  him,  because  thou  liast  given  a  cup  of  cold  water  in 
the  name  of  a  disciple,  thou  shalt  have  thy  reivard;  and 
then,  on  the  harvest-field  of  eternity,  he  shall  gather  the 
fruits  of  his  sowing  here  to  the  Spirit — ^fruit,  life  everlasting. 
The  unsearchable  God  can  accept  the  smallest  service, 
and  knows  how  to  make  vast  and  eternal  benefits  grow 
out  of  it,  as  easily  as  out  of  the  most  magnificent. 

8.  The  greatness  of  God  ought  to  encourage  the  timid. 
Miserable  mortal !  poor  creature  of  tempestuous  circum- 
stances, tossed  with  fear,  shipwrecked  in  storms,  forsaken 
by  friends,  pained  with  sickness,  and,  after  having  aimed 
to  live  godly  in  Christ  Jesus  and  maintain  a  good  name, 
aspersed  with  foul  slanders — poor  mortal,  fear  not !  The 
great  God  reigns !  And  because  he  is  great,  his  regard 
reaches  to  every  one  of  3^our  annoyances.  Your  enemies 
can  not  hurt  3"ou.  They  may  pain  you ;  but  God  shall 
make  them  profit  jovl.  He  has  his  hook  in  their  nose,  and. 
his  bridle  in  their  lips.  Be  God's  friend,  and  if  your 
enemies  touch  you,  they  touch  the  apple  ofliis  eye.     Be  his 

5 


98  THE  MAGNIFICENCE   OF  GOD. 

friend,  and  if  poverty  trouble  you  liere,  it  shall  not 
trouble  you  long. 

9.  The  grandeur  of  God  ought  to  rebuke  our  reliance 
upon  creatures.  All  creatures  are  his.  He  made  them. 
He  governs  them.  He  will  govern.  Not  a  sparrow 
falls,  or  an  angel  sings,  or  a  devil  blasphemes,  without 
him !  We  have  not,  and  we  can  not  have,  any  resource 
but  in  him.  All  else  shall  fail  us.  They  will  soon  fail. 
They  are  even  now  failing.  Friends  sink  around  us! 
Hopes  perish  !  We  carry  the  seeds  of  death  in  our 
mortal  bodies  !  And  this  wide  world,  and  these  sweet 
heavens  themselves,  shall  pretty  soon  vanish  away  at  the 
sound  of  the  final  trumpet !  "Our  God  in  grandeur  and 
our  world  on  fire  I" 

Oh,  give  me  hope  and  treasure  in  God!  Give  me  some 
solid  foundation  to  build  upon  !  Give  mc  my  house 
founded  upon  the  Eock  of  Ages  I  Give  me  this,  and  soon, 
when  I  stand  a  disembodied  spirit  on  the  ashes  of  a  burnt 
world,  and  see  tlie  heavens  rolled  together  as  a  scroll^  I  shall 
be  able  to  say,  I  have  lost  nothing !  And  then,  taking 
my  way  up  to  that  Mount  Zion  which  can  not  he  movedj 
I  shall  be  able  to  exclaim,  I  have  gained  every  thing ! 
Because  God,  speaking  in  the  grandeur  of  power  and 
grandeur  of  grace  which  belongs  to  him,  has  issued  the 
promise  to  the  poor  and  contrite  spirit — the  mountains 
shall  depart,  and  the  hills  he  removed,  hut  my  kindness  shall 
not  depart  from  thee,  neither  shall  the  covenant  of  my  peace 
he  removed.  Would  to  God,  that  we  could  persuade 
every  immortal  soul  here,  to  give  up  the  treacherous 
world,  and  rest  itself  on  the  bosom  of  this  vast  and 
gracious  God — immeasurably  great  and  immeasurably 
good. 


Eender  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God's. — Matthew,  sxii.  21. 

TT7E  do  not  propose  to  examine  with  minuteness  the 
'  *  occasion  which  gave  rise  to  these  words  of  Jesus 
Christ.  It  will  be  sufficient  to  remark,  that  they  were 
uttered  on  an  occasion  when  some  of  those  who  disbe- 
lieved in  his  Divine  mission  sought  to  entangle  him  in 
his  talk.  Passing  by  the  matters  of  religion,  and  desirous 
to  bring  down  upon  him  the  displeasure  of  the  civil 
government,  the  disciples  of  the  Pharisees  and  the  Herodi- 
ans  were  sent  to  him  to  ask  him,  (after  some  empty  and 
insincere  compliments,)  is  it  lawful  to  give  tribute  to 
Ccesar  or  notf  Jesus  knew  their  wickedness.  He 
answered,  ivhy  tempt  ye  me?  show  me  the  tribute  money. 
And  they  shoived  him  a  penny.  And  he  said  unto  thern^ 
whose  is  this  image  and  superscription?  They  say  unto  him,^ 
Coisar''s.  Then  saith  he  unto  them^  Render^  therefore^  unto 
Caesar  the  things  that  are  Ccesar^ s,  and  unto  God  the  things 
that  are  God^s.  He  met  their  temptation  by  laying  down 
a  great  principle.  This  principle  was  to  give  Ctesar  his 
own,  and  God  his  own.  Eights  never  conflict  with  one 
another.  Duties  never  conflict  with  one  another.  Right- 
eousness has  no  inconsistencies.  It  is  error  that  is  fall 
of  absurdities  and  contradictions,  while  truth  has  none 

■*  Delivered  before  the  Synod  of  New  York,  at  Brooklyn,  Oct.  20,  1S51. 


100  THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT. 

of  them.  Eeligion  will  blame  no  man  for  rendering  unto 
Ccesar  the  things  that  are  Ccesar^s,  but  it  demands  of  every 
man  to  render  unto  God  the  things  that  are  God^s. 

The  text,  therefore,  implies  the  necessity  of  knowing 
the  character,  standing  or  office  of  Caesar,  that  he  may 
receive  his  due ;  and  the  necessity ,  of  knowing  the 
standing  of  God,  what  God  is,  that  we  may  render  unto 
him  the  things  that  are  his.  To  this  latter  necessity  we 
propose  to  attend  in  this  sermon.  Render  unto  God  the 
things  that  are  God's. 

We  have  no  special  reference  now  to  an}^  civil  or  po- 
litical duties  ;  but  we  propose  to  consider  the  importance, 
in  religious  respects,  of  our  having  just  ideas  of  the  being 
and  character  of  God. 

We  lay  down  this  principle  ; — that,  for  the  purposes  of 
correctness  and  security  in  our  religion,  it  is  an  indis- 
pensable thing  for  us,  that  we  know  the  character  of  God 
correctly,  in  order  to  know  what  to  render  to  him,  in 
homage,  service  and  love^ — in  every  emotion  and  duty 
of  religion.  This  is  our  doctrine.  We  proceed  to  sub- 
stantiate it.  We  name  to  you  only  four  general  ideas : 
the  purpose  of  creature  existence — a  correct  conscience — 
the  foundation  of  religion,  and  the  manner  in  which  re- 
ligious character  is  formed. 

I.  God  is  the  Head  of  the  universe,  in  a  sense  peculiar 
and  without  comparison.  He  is  not  only  supreme  over 
it,  but  he  made  \tfor  himself.  It  exists,  all  creatures  in 
it  exist,  not  for  their  sakes,  but  for  his  own.  He  hath 
made  all  things  for  himself  He  took  the  motives  for  his 
work  of  creation  from  his  own  infinite  existence  and 
character,  and  planned  the  whole,  when  nothing  existed 
but  himself,  standing  alone  in  the  solitude  of  his  vast 


THE   DIVINE   CHAEACTER   PRE-EMINENT.  101 

and  unpeopled  eternity — not  a  creature  to  praise  him — • 
not  a  being  to  move.  There  was  nothing  but  God. 
Nothing  else,  therefore,  could  bring  into  action  his 
creating  power.  The  universe  exists  for  the  sake  of 
God,  its  Author. 

Over  this  universe  he  presides.  And  his  rule  is  as  pe- 
culiar, and  as  much  beyond  comparison  with  any  other, 
as  his  existence  is.  He  needs  no  machinery  to  aid  his 
strength :  his  will  is  his  power.  He  needs  no  study  to 
perfect  his  wisdom — no  experiments — no  time.  He  is 
infinitely  above  all  this.  Indeed,  he  needs  no  inspection 
or  examination  in  order  to  his  knowledge.  He  has 
only  to  have  recourse  to  his  own  plans — the  eternal 
models  of  all  things,  which  have  existed  for  ever  in  his 
own  infinite  mind.  His  control,  therefore,  is  peculiar  and 
beyond  all  analogy.  His  volition  is  his  omnipotence — 
his  thought  is  infinite  wisdom — and  infallibly  he  directs 
all  things  under  his  government  to  the  accomplishment 
of  his  designed  ends. 

Now,  if  we  have  not  these  and  such  like  correct  ideas 
of  his  character  and  attributes,  how  is  it  possible  that  we 
should  render  him  his  due  ?  He  is  head  over  all.  He 
is  infinitely  and  peculiarly  supreme.  Every  thing  else 
may  give  way,  but  God  will  not.  The  universe  must 
bend  to  him.  He  will  not  bend  to  the  universe.  If  we 
have  not  just  ideas  of  him,  to  give  him  his  own  place, 
we  can  not  have  just  homage  for  his  high  and  eternal 
attributes,  nor  take  our  own  fit  place  in  the  humility  of 
our  littleness,  and  the  unquestioning  promptness  of  our 
obedience  and  faith.  It  would  seem,  certainly,  that  if  it 
is  important  for  us  to  know  any  thing  correctly,  it  must 
be  important  to  know  Hiin  correctly,  under  whose  gov- 
ernment we  are,  and  who  will  dis^^ose  of  us  eternally 


102  THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER  PRE-EMINENT. 

just  as  he  pleases.  We  want  to  know  his  character. 
We  want  to  know  what  will  please  him,  and  what  will 
displease  him.  We  can  not  afford  to  be  in  ignorance  on 
a  pointy  whereon  hinges  every  duty  in  time  and  every 
destiny  in  Eternity.  Kule,  he  will.  Nothing  shall 
hinder  him.  The  efficacy  of  his  character  shall  be 
carried  out  in  the  destinies  of  our  future  life;  and  we 
must  know  what  that  character  is,  if,  under  his  supreme 
government,  and  creatures  as  we  are,  we  would  have  a 
single  hope  to  cheer  us,  as  our  face  is  tamed  towards  the 
opening  portals  of  a  never-ending  eternity.  Ignorance, 
error  on  any  other  point,  may  be  endured ;  but  not  here. 
This  is  the  supreme  point.  According  to  what  God  is, 
the  universe  must  be  treated.  He  is  its  head.  He 
made  it  for  himself  He  will  not  give  it  up.  It  can  not 
be  plucked  out  of  his  hands.  We  need  to  know  what 
that  character  of  God  is,  on  which  hinges  all  that  can 
interest  us,  as  long  as  eternity  shall  roll  on  its  vast  and 
immeasurable  ages. 

We  need  to  have  just  ideas  of  God,  because  he  main- 
tains and  will  maintain  a  supreme  and  peculiar  headship 
over  his  universe  and  all  that  is  in  it.  We  could  dis- 
pense with  minor  matters  of  knowledge,  but  not  with  this. 

And  just  here,  therefore,  we  can  not  but  remark,  how 
far  from  the  proprieties  of  truth  and  the  prospects  of  an 
ultimate  benefit  those  persons  do  wander,  who,  in  at- 
tempting exhibits  of  religion,  fail  to  exhibit  God  as  he 
is,  and,  in  accommodation  to  the  taste  of  the  age,  descant 
upon  visible  utilities  merely,  on  what  befits  us  according 
to  the  mere  tuition  of  Nature  or  the  injunction  of  our 
social  relationships.  A  very  tasteful  and  polite  method 
of  crowding  God  out  of  his  world  !  In  any  foundation 
of  moral  obligation  to  be  laid  by  such  a  mode,  there  is 


THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT.  103 

nothing  stable.  Moral  essaying,  the  dreams  of  an  in- 
fidel socialism,  the  fancies  of  an  ntilitariaii  schem.ing,  all 
as  superficial  and  silly  as  they  are  proud,  will  not  do. 
The  character  of  God  gone — all  is  gone !  We  are  afloat 
then — out  of  sight  of  land — on  a  sea  of  midnight — not  a 
star  to  steer  by  !  Philosophy  is  not  faith.  The  world  is 
not  God.  The  little  taper  lights  of  time  will  go  out.  We 
need  the  great  Sun  of  Righteousness  to  illume  the  skies  of 
eternity.  Accordiug  to  wdiat  God  is,  we  must  be,  and 
the  world  must  be,  or  rectitude  and  happiness  will 
soon  perish  together. 

11.  As  the  creatures  of  God  we  are  capable  of  moral 
control.  We  have  conscience.  We  know  rio'ht  from 
wrong — not  merely  capable  of  discrimination  betwixt  truth 
and  error,  but  capable  of  discrimination  on  those  moral 
matters,  about  which  conscience  wields  her  energies,  and 
whereon  the  foundations  of  divine  government  do  rest. 
God  is  the  infinite  Governor,  the  infinite  Legislator  and 
Judge.  That  system  of  government  which  he  has  or- 
dained, expends  its  supremacy,  not  on  natural  or  intel- 
lectual matters,  things  of  science,  taste  or  materiality, 
but  on  moral  (spiritual)  matters ;  and  the  ultimate  des- 
tiny of  every  being  possessed  of  conscience  hangs  on 
the  simple  question  of  the  manner  in  which  he  uses  it. 
The  felicities  and  the  miseries  of  a  future  and  intermin- 
able life  are  to  be  determined  by  the  holiness  and  the 
sin  of  God's  moral  and  immortal  creatures.  Holiness 
indeed  may  have  much  misery  on  this  side  the  tomb,  but 
none  beyond  it.  Sin  may  have  much  felicity  in  this  life, 
but  none  at  all  in  another.  Such  are  the  Law  and  gov- 
ernment of  God  that  the  question  of  right  and  ivrong 
will  decide  the  destinies  of  eternity. 


104"  THE   DIVIXE   CnARACTER   PRE-EMIXEXT. 

Xow  this  law  and  government,  (whicli  are  of  so 
much  moment  to  ns,  which  shall  fix  iis  unalterably 
in  weal  or  woe,)  this  law  and  government  are  as  they  are, 
simply  for  one  reason,  namely,  because  God  is  what  he 
is.  If  God  were  different,  law  would  be  different.  If 
we  have  unjust  ideas  of  God,  we  shall  have  unjust  ideas 
of  law.  If  we  have  -wrong  ideas  of  God,  we  shall  have 
wrong  ideas  of  duty.  Then,  conscience  will  be  misled, 
and  the  misleading  will  by  no  means  be  the  worst  of  the 
matter :  it  will  be  a  worse  matter,  that  its  exercise,  its 
application,  its  purity  and  strength,  will  be  hindered. 
For  illustration — take  a  naturalist,  (I  know  not  what 
else  to  call  him,)  a  man  who  has  such  ideas  about  God  as 
to  ascribe  to  him  nothing  more  than  a  control  over  visi- 
ble and  material  things,  and  giving  laws  to  us  only  in 
respect  to  the  duties  begun  and  ended  on  these  shores  of 
time — a  man  who  judges  of  God  merely  by  what  he 
sees,  as  he  calls  it,  by  Nature.  Such  a  man  may  have  a 
conscience  about  buying  and  selling,  about  decency, 
kindness,  and  all  fit  demeanor,  down  to  the  last  breath  of 
life,  and  deem  it  his  duty  to  resign  the  last  breath  con- 
tented and  peaceful.  But  he  has  limited  his  conscience. 
He  has  confined  it  very  much  to  these  little  and  tem- 
porarj^  scenes.  He  has  felt  it  his  duty  to  live  well  with 
his  fellow-men  here,  till  he  has  filled  up  the  little  space 
allotted  to  him ;  but  he  has  put  this  minor  duty  before  a 
greater  one — (if,  indeed,  he  has  not  made  it  every  thing) 
— ^he  has  not  felt  it  to  be  his  first  and  supreme  duty  to 
prepare  his  immortal  soul  to  live  well  with  God  and  the 
holy  inhabitants  of  heaven,  through  the  interminable 
spaces  which  stretch  out  beyond  the  resurrection  of  the 
dead,  and  reach  down  to  the  remotest  distances  of  eterni- 
ty.    This  is  a  naturalist's  conscience.     It  is  confined  :  it 


THE  DIYIXE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT.  105 

is  trammeled  and  laid  asleep  on  the  main  points.  The 
man  who  only  consults  the  rocks  and  trees,  the  skies 
and  seasons,  the  relations  of  life  here,  and  the  results  of 
action  here,  to  teach  him  duty  and  impel  him  to  recti- 
tude, ought  never  to  die  !  He  is  unfit  to  die.  His  moral 
principles  and  all  the  moulding  of  his  moral  feelings  have 
done  nothing  more  for  him,  at  most,  than  make  him  a 
good  citizen  of  the  world,  and  prepare  him  to  be  a  very 
bad  citizen  of  the  world  to  come.  His  false  ideas  of  God 
have  led  him  to  all  this.  He  did  not  think  of  God  as 
enacting  a  law  for  us  here,  for  much  other  reason  than 
to  afiect  our  destinies  here ;  and  especially,  he  did  not 
think  of  him  as  enacting  a  law,  which  makes  every 
thing  beneath  the  sun  subordinate  to  interests  which 
shall  swell  out  in  ever-increasins^  maornitude  on  the 
bosom  of  eternity  after  the  sun  has  gone  out — extin- 
guished for  ever !  Consequently,  all  of  this  man's  moral 
sentiments  are  confined  to  one  field.  He  has  only  half, 
or  less  than  half  a  conscience.  He  had  false  ideas  about 
God  to  begin  with,  and  they  led  him  into  this  moral  limi- 
tation and  moral  stupidity.  He  may  be  partly  fit  for 
time,  but  he  is  not  fit  for  eternity.  He  may  be  fit  for 
an  earthly  inheritance  with  men  in  temporal  things,  but 
he  is  not  fit  for  intercourse  with  disembodied  spirits 
and  with  God  in  the  high  society  of  an  eternal  heaven. 
He  may  be  fit— partly — partly  fit  to  have  a  wife  here, 
but  he  is  not  fit  for  that  society  and  those  relationships, 
where  they  neither  marry  nor  are  given  in  marriage^  hut 
are  as  the  angels  of  God. 

Just  so  in  all  respects.  False  ideas  about  God  will 
debauch  human  conscience.  If  our  ideas  about  his 
purity  are  false,  our  ideas  about  his  law  of  purity  will 
be  false.     We  shall  never  rise  higher  than  our  standard. 


106  THE   DIVINE  CHAKACTER  PRE-EMINENT. 

If  we  think  of  God  as  hating  injustice  only  a  little,  we 
shall  ourselves  feel  bound  to  hate  it  only  a  little.  So  of 
all  else.  False  ideas  of  God,  as  far  and  as  fast  as  they 
go,  tend  to  the  utter  subversion  of  the  conscientious 
principle.  And  if  it  is  of  any  moment  to  us  to  under- 
stand and  be  influenced  by  that  system  of  moral  govern- 
ment and  law,  which  shall  dispose  of  the  destinies  of 
eternity,  weal  or  woe ;  of  the  same  moment  is  it  to  us, 
that  we  have  just  ideas  of  that  character  of  God,  which 
makes  law  and  government  what  they  are.  His  will  is 
the  foundation  of  right — right,  never  conflicting  with  the 
just  decisions  of  science  and  nature  indeed;  but  making 
all  nature  and  all  science  subordinate  to  ends  eternal. 
This  world,  this  life,  with  all  its  delightful  scenes — its 
scenes  of  poetry,  taste,  science,  and  affection ;  this  world, 
this  lifetime,  constitute  only  a  machinery,  the  issues  of 
whose  movements  lie  off  beyond  the  valley  of  death. 
To  be  educated,  and  trained,  and  morally  molded  for 
this  transient  scene  only^  will  not  answer  God's  will. 
It  will  not  be  right.  It  will  be  a  training  of  only 
half  our  moral  sensibilities  and  principles,  and  a  mis- 
guiding of  them  even  in  that  half.  We  are  not  at 
home  here.  Our  home  lies  in  another  country  with 
God.  We  need  just  ideas  of  his  infinite  and  presiding 
character. 

III.  Just  ideas  of  the  character  of  God  are  important 
also,  because  that  character  is  the  foundation  of  all  relig- 
ion. IP  there  were  no  God,  there  would  be  no  religion  ; 
and  if  God  were  different  from  wh;it  he  is,  true  religion 
would  be  different  from  what  it  is  ;  and  if  God  should 
change,  religion  would  change.  True  religion  is  that 
system  which  aims  to  bring  our  principles,  feelings,  and 


THE   DIVINE   CHARACTEU   PRE-EMINENT.  107 

habits  into  conformity  with  Grod.  It  is  the  stamping 
of  that  image  of  God  on  the  soul,  which  Avas  eiFaced  by 
the  falL  "We  have  borne  the  image  of  the  earthly :  to  be 
saved,  we  must  bear  the  image  of  the  heavenly.  Be  ye  holy^ 
for  lam  holy.  Without  holiness  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord. 
Be  ye  reconciled  to  God ;  not  to  nature,  time,  society,  or 
even  law,  but  to  God.  Whatever  it  is  that  true  religion 
embraces  within  itself,  it  takes  the  whole  of  it  from  one 
eternal  fountain — from  the  depths  of  the  character  of 
the  Deity.  W^e  must  obey  Him,  W^e  must  love  Him. 
We  must  serve  Him.  We  must  be  like  Him.  To  begin 
to  be  so  is  the  only  beginning  of  religion,  and  advance- 
ment in  it  consists  simply  jn  being  more  and  more  trans- 
formed into  his  likeness. 

If,  therefore,  we  have  false  ideas  of  God,  we  can  not 
fail  to  have  false  ideas  of  the  very  foundation  and 
nature  of  rehgion.  Error  on  this  point  is  fundamental 
error.  It  is  error  at  the  fountain-head,  at  the  very 
life-spring  of  the  whole  matter;  and,  according  to  its 
extent,  will  pervert  and  poison  all  the  rest.  It  is  not 
like  error  on  some  subordinate  part — some  filling  up — 
or  some  outwork — or  adjunct — some  shade  or  coloring. 
It  is  just  building  upon  the  sand  ;  and,  when  the  winds 
blow  and  the  storms  beat,  the  whole  edifice  must  fall — 
it  was  founded  upon  the  sand. 

It  will  never  do  for  us  to  think  of  religion  as  founded 
in  the  nature  of  things.  It  is  not.  It  is  founded  in  the 
nature  of  God.  God  is  a  spirit ;  and  they  that  worship 
him  must  luorship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth.  "  Things  " 
are  only  his  machinery,  temporary  machinery.  The 
present  relations  of  things  shall  soon  be  altered.  Men 
die.  The  world  shall  come  to  an  end.  The  sun  shall 
go  out  in  blackness.     The    purpose  of  religion    is  not 


108  THE   DIVINE    CIIARACTEll   PRE-EMINENT. 

merely,  or  mainly,  to  guide  our  footsteps,  so  that  we  may 
not  stumble  in  the  rough  paths  of  this  life,  but  to  gaide 
our  souls,  so  that  they  may  enter  upon  the  life  to  come,  in 
holy  and  happy  relations  and  intercourse  with  God  for 
ever.  Just  ideas  of  the  character  of  God  are  important 
and  indispensable,  because  there  lies  the  very  foundation 
of  religion. 

IV.  This  doctrine,  perhaps,  may  become  still  more 
clear  to  our  mind,  if  we  consider  the  mode  in  which  the 
religious  character  of  creatures,  like  ourselves,  is  influ- 
enced. We  are  susceptible  of  influence  from  various 
quarters,  indeed ;  but  there  is  one  fountain  of  influence 
superior  to  all  others.  It  is  the  influence  that  comes 
from  our  conceptions  of  God.  This  is  the  supreme 
matter  in  all  true  religion  ;  and  not  only  so,  but  it  comes 
in  to  qualify  all  other  influences,  which  are  beneficial  in 
any  part  of  true  religion.  There  will  be  a  defect — a 
signal  if  not  fatal  defect — in  all  other  motives  and 
arguments,  if  this  does  not  go  along  with  them.  For 
example,  all  the  alignments  which  you  weave  to  enjoin 
the  observance  of  the  second  table  of  the  law,  would  be 
defective,  and  could  be  but  partially  influential  for  good, 
if  you  should  forget  that  another  table  of  law  comes 
before  it.  The  propriety  and  obligation  of  loving  your 
neighbor  as  yourself  may  have  some  salutary  enforcement, 
it  is  true,  as  you  consider  how  much  felicity  would  spring 
from  such  an  affection,  and  the  acts  which  flow  from  it, 
and  how  much  misery  would  result  from  the  opposite 
affection.  But  this  enforcement  is  not  all.  You  are 
bound  to  love  your  neighbor,  not  merely  for  his  sake, 
but  for  God's  sake — not  merely  for  time's  felicities,  but 
for  eternity's  felicities.     You  are  bound  to  feel^  and  you 


THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT.  109 

need  to  feel,  that,  if  you  injure  your  neighbor,  you  offend 
Mm  not  only,  but  God  also.  The  main  and  most  influen- 
tial idea,  therefore,  is  gone^  if  you  only  consider  your  rela- 
tion to  your  neighbor,  but  do  not  consider  that  the  high 
and  infinite  authority  of  God  has  itself  flung  a  rampart 
around  your  neighbor's  rights,  which  you  may  not  scale. 
You  are  to  remember,  and  you  need  to  remember,  that 
if  you  sin  against  him  you  sin  against  God.  In 
your  quarrel  with  him,  if  you  were  unjust  to  him, 
you  might  hope  to  get  along  without  much  trouble,  and 
come  off  victorious  in  the  end.  But  if  you  are  unjust  to 
him,  you  have  another  quarrel.  It  is  a  quarrel  wdth 
God.  He  will  call  you  to  an  account.  And  that  idea 
is  indispensable  for  the  just  influence  of  the  law  upon 
your  heart,  and  conscience,  and  habits,  and  all  your 
character.  So  that  not  only  the  supremacy,  but  the 
universal  extension  of  the  idea  of  God's  chai'acter  makes 
that  idea  a  very  momentous  one.  You  can  not  spare  it. 
You  can  spare  it  nowhere.  It  covers,  and  must  cover, 
the  whole  field  of  duty.  Blessed  be  God,  if  the  wicked 
man  would  devour  widows'  houses^  he  must  know  that  the 
infinite  Power  above  him  is  the  luidow^s  God  and  Judge ; 
if  he  would  defraud  the  defenseless  orphan,  and  have 
more  courage  to  attempt  it  because  he  is  defenceless,  he 
must  know  that  He  who  is  the  Father  of  the  fatherless 
will  hold  him  doubly  guilty!  I  would  not  have  his 
curse  for  all  the  sun  shines  on !  And  he  w^ould  not  dare 
to  perpetrate  his  iniquity,  if  he  had  any  just  ideas  of  the 
character  of  God,  and  justly  felt  its  influence. 

Nothing  else  can  be  substituted  for  this  idea.  In  no 
spot  of  duty,  in  no  question  of  morals,  can  you  bring  in 
any  other  idea  to  take  the  place  and  answer  the  purposes 
of  this.     Nothing  can  hold  its  place   for  an   instant. 


110  THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT. 

Nothing  can  answer  its  purposes.  If  you  would  bring 
in  tlie  authority,  and  character,  and  wisdom  of  man — of 
any  finite  being — and  hold  them  up  as  injunctions  to 
any  supposed  duty,  and  tell  the  transgressor  what  an 
authority,  what  a  wisdom,  what  a  character,  he  comes 
into  conflict  Avith  when  he  transgresses,  you  have  dimin- 
ished the  power  of  your  persuasion  to  duty,  to  an  extent 
equal  to  the  distance  between  finite  and  infinite — 
between  a  creature  and  God.  If  you  would  bring  in  the 
nature  of  things,  philosophy,  utility,  to  enjoin  duty,  and 
if,  doing  so,  you  would  show  that  sin  must  and  will,  in 
the  end,  work  out  its  own  punishment,  because  of  some 
pervading  principle  which,  in  the  end,  will  bring  it  to 
misery,  you  have  diminished  the  power  of  your  persua- 
sion to  the  full  extent  of  the  difference  betwixt  a  princi- 
ple and  a  person.  God  is  more  than  a  principle — he  is 
a  person.  It  was  not  a  principle  which  built  hell ;  God 
built  it.  It  was  not  a  principle  which  built  heaven; 
God  built  it.  To  be  punished  by  a  principle  is  quite 
another  matter  than  being  punished  by  a  person.  To 
be  rewarded  by  a  principle — a  principle  of  utility,  of 
philosophy,  of  nature  (call  it  what  you  will) — is  quite 
another  matter  than  being  rewarded  by  a  person.  A 
mere  principle  has  got  no  heart  in  it.  It  can  not  love 
you — it  can  not  hate  you — it  can  not  sympathize  v/ith 
you.  You  can  not  hold  any  fellowship  with  it,  as  you 
can  with  a  kindred  spirit.  You  can  not  pray  to  it,  as 
you  can  to  God,  and  lose  iialf  your  misery  b}^  the  very 
act  of  ]3raying,  and  the  other  half  by  God's  answer  to  his 
child.  Your  principles  will  not  do :  they  Avill  never 
reach  hearts.  In  morals,  as  in  sociality,  we  want  a 
place  for  hearts.  What  would  your  home  be  to  you, 
with  all  its  loaded  table,  its  bed  of  down,  its  books,  and 


THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT.  Ill 

all  its  adoruings,  if  tliere  you  could  never  meet  the 
smile  of  "Avife,  cliildren,  or  friends"?  Cold  home!  a 
hermit's  cell !  worse  than  any  cabin  or  cave,  and  but  a 
single  crust  to  be  shared  with  some  loved  one !  Cold 
religion,  too,  if  we  must  put  out  of  it  that  Father,  God, 
and  in  exchange  for  his  person  take  only  some  jprinci'ple 
that  can  never  love  us.  We  want  a  friend — a  friend  to 
lean  upon,  amid  the  duties  and  difQ.culties  of  life ;  and 
when  we  depart  out  of  it,  we  want  something  more  than 
a  -place  to  go  to  ;  we  want  what  Paul  had — the  privilege 
to  be  with  Christ,  evidently  to  him  the  best  part  of  his 
heaven.  The  heaven  of  a  principle  is  only  half  a  heaven, 
at  best — we  want  the  heaven  of  a  person.  We  must 
not  think,  therefore,  that  in  any  part  of  our  duties  we 
can  take  in  some  idea  of  utility  or  philosophy,  or  I 
know  not  what,  and  dismiss  the  idea  of  God.  We  need 
the  whole  influence  of  his  character — of  his  understood 
character^ — of  his  character  known  through  Christ,  who 
loved  me,  and  gave  himself  a  ransom  for  me. 

If  you  examine  into  the  mode  in  which  the  Scriptures 
aim  to  affect  us,  and  form  our  religious  habits,  and  hopes, 
and  emotions,  you  will  find  that  they  rely  much  upon 
impressing  upon  our  hearts  right  conceptions  of  the 
Supreme  Being.  Naturalists,  materialists,  may  quarrel 
with  them,  but  still  they  do  it.  The  superficial,  silly 
philosopher,  who  imagines  he  can  work  out  religion 
enough,  as  he  carries  his  taper  into  the  wilderness  of 
this  world's  analogies,  may  quarrel  with  them,  also,  but 
the  Bible  will  go  beyond  all  his  analogies;  it  will  let 
him  know  there  is  no  analogy  for  God — he  can  stretch 
no  measuring-rod  upon  the  immensities  of  his  being. 
And  nowhere  else  but  in  God  himself  can  he  find  a  sin- 


112  THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER  PRE-EMINENT. 

gle  gleam  of  light  tliat  sliall  sliine  down  to  the  grave's 
depth,  and  give  hope  that 

"  Beauty  immortal  shall  wake  from  the  tomb." 

Examine  the  Scriptures.  How  do  thej  expect  to 
affect  ns  ?  In  what  mode  do  they  attempt  to  form  our 
religious  character  ?  It  is  very  remarkable  how  steadily 
they  insist  upon  the  character  of  God  ;  God  revealed  in 
Christ ;  Christ  incarnate,  and  dying  to  save  sinners 
through  the  great  atonement ;  and,  if  at  any  time  they 
employ  the  machinery  of  created  things,  they  do  employ 
it  only  as  machinery.  All  their  sublimity,  and  poetry, 
and  tenderness,  and  taste,  and  kindness,  about  earthly 
things,  are  only  smiles  to  lead  us  on.  They  employ 
the  seas  and  mountains,  the  storms,  and  thunder,  and 
stars,  only  as  scaffoldings  and  stepping-stones  to  help  us 
away  towards  that  high  and  lofty  One  that  inha.hiteth  eter- 
nity. The  sea  is  his,  he  made  it  Before  him,  the 
nations  are  hut  as  the  drop  of  the  bucket.  He  taheth  up  the 
isles  as  a  very  little  thing.  He  weigheth  the  mountains  in 
scales  and  the  hills  in  a,  balance.  God  is  a  Spirit^  and  they 
that  ivorship  him  must  loorship  him  in  spirit  and  in  truth. 
This  is  life  eternal  that  they  might  KNOW  thee^  the  only  true 
God,  and  Jesus  Chi^ist  ivhorn  thou  hast  sent.  Thou  thoughtest 
that  I  luas  cdtogether  such  an  one  as  thyself  but  I  ivill  re- 
prove thee  and  set  them  in  order  before  thine  eyes.  Now  con- 
sider this,  ye  that  forget  God,  lest  I  tear  you  in  pieces  and 
there  be  none  to  deliver.  I  remember  THEE  upon  my  bed ; 
I  meditate  on  THEE  in  the  night-watches.  It  is  good  for  me 
to  draw  nigh  unto  God.  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  ivahe 
luith  thy  likeness.  Acquaint  now  thyself  toith  HIM,  and  be 
at  peace.  Tlie  kindness  and  love  of  God  our  Saviour  to- 
vxirds  man  hath  appeared.     Behold  /,  even  I  am  HE,  that 


THE  DIVINE   CHAPwACTER   PRE-EMINENT.  113 

hlotteth  out  thy  transgressions  for  mine  own  name^s  sake. 
lAke  as  a  fatJier  pitieth  his  children^  so  the  Lord  pitieth  them 
that  fear  him.  God  noio  commandeth  all  men  every  where 
to  repent^  because  HE  hath  appointed  a  day  in  the  which  HE 
will  judge  the  world  in  righteousness^  by  that  man  whom  he 
hath  ordained^  whereof  he  hath  given  assurance  unto  cdl  men 
in  that  he  hath  raised  him  from  the  dead.  I  am  the  Lord  , 
I  change  not^  therefore  ye  sons  of  Jacob  are  not  consumed. 
Be  ye  holy ^  for  I  am  holy.  Our  God  is  a  consuming  fire 
But  we  can  not  go  on  with  such  passages.  This  princi 
pie  of  quotation  would  bring  in  literally  more  than  half 
the  Bible.  We  can  not  pursue  it.  Kot  only  are  those 
passages  which  would  form  our  religious  principles, 
practices,  and  emotions,  by  the  character  of  God,  of 
every  possible  variety,  but  the  character  of  God  is  the 
ONE  IDEA  which  presides  over  all,  and  without  which, 
(whatever  you  may  have,)  the  Bible  has  no  reliance  upon 
any  other. 

You  may  find  a  thousand  exemplifications.  When 
Peter  would  silence  the  scoff  of  the  skeptic,  who  thought 
he  could  sneer  very  safely  and  philosophically,  because 
he  imagined  he  could  press  the  visible  world  into  his 
service — ivhere  is  the  promise  of  his  coming?  for  since  the 
fathers  fell  asleep  all  things  continue  as  they  ivere  from  the 
beginning  of  the  creation  ;  Peter  takes  the  poor  fool  from 
things  to  God — one  day  ivith  the  Lord  is  as  a  thousand 
years^  and  a  thousand  years  as  one  day.  The  poor  skeptic 
was  going  to  vitiate  a  Bible  "promise"  by  the  "  things" 
of  nature.  Because  he  did  not  see  the  sun  growing 
dim,  or  feel  the  earth  giving  way  beneath  his  feet,  he 
supposed  he  could  conclude  triumphantly  and  with  a 
sneer,  that  the  promise  of  Christ's  coming  and  the  end 
of  the  world  was  contradicted  or  refuted  by  the  ^Uhings^^ 


114  THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT. 

that  "  continued  as  thej  were,"  bj  every  solid  mountain, 
by  the  burning  sun,  and  by  every  glittering  star.  Peter 
lets  him  know  that  "  continuance,"  time,  is  nothing  to 
God;  God  never  grows  any  older,  any  more  than  he 
grows  wiser ;  years  are  nothing  to  him ;  ages  are  the 
same  as  moments.  Just  ideas  of  Grod  would  postpone 
his  scoffs,  till  he  could  find  some  measure  or  comparison 
for  Grod's  eternity,  and  tell  how  old  God  is. 

When  Paul  stood  on  Mars'  hill,  surrounded  by  the 
pride,  and  pomp,  and  taste,  and  philosophy  of  Athens, 
the  most  refined  city  in  the  world,  whose  learned  men 
had  invited  the  apostle  to  explain  his  religion,  he  did  not 
commence  Avith  any  refined  disquisition  about  men  or 
things,  or  the  nature  of  the  things,  social  right  or  visible 
utilities,  as  Aristotle  would  have  done,  or  about  moral 
agency,  as  certain  of  our  theological  professors,  I  am 
afraid,  would  have  done.  He  broke  ground  with  God : 
Qod  that  made  the  ivorld  and  all  things  therein,  seeing  that 
he  is  Lord  of  heaven  and  earth,  dwelleth  not  in  temples 
made  with  hands.  At  a  single  dash  the  apostle  goes  be- 
yond every  spot  where  philosophy  could  reach  him.  He 
preaches  God.  He  gives  God  the  throne.  He  makes 
all  men  alike.  He  preaches  repentance  to  all — not  in 
view  of  the  nature  of  things,  philosophy,  the  utility  of 
virtue,  or  moral  agency — ^but  in  view  of  this  God,  his 
promised  resurrection  of  the  dead  as  Christ  rose,  and  the 
final  judgment.  The  mode  of  Peter  and  Paul  w^as  the 
mode  of  the  Prophets  before  them.  The  Bible  relies 
upon  the  character  of  God  to  teach  men  religion  and 
turn  them  to  it ;  God  revealed  in  Clirist  and  his  cross. 

It  is  just  as  plain  that  the  character  of  God  is  the  life- 
spring  of  influence  in  every  part  of  experimental  religion. 
For  example : 


THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT.  115 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  conviction  of  sin.  Under  its 
influence  the  soul  has  some  unwonted  emotions.  It  has 
realizations  then  which  it  had  not  before.  What  and 
whence  is  their  peculiarity?  Just  this:  God  is  better 
known;  against  THEE,  THEE  ONLY,  have  I  sinned.  Thee 
ONLY !  Sin  might  be  against  other  beings,  but  that  was 
nothing  with, the  convicted  sinner.  It  was  against  God^ 
and  that  was  every  thing  with  him  :  I  have  done  this  evil 
in  THY  sight. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  re'pentance.  "Whence  does  it 
spring?  and  how  bear  influence  ?  I  have  heard  of  thee 
hy  the  hearing  of  the  ear^  hat  now  mine  eye  seeth  THEE, 
loherefore  I  abhor  myself  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes. 
God's  character  laid  him  in  the  dust. 

There  is  such  a  thing  ixs  faith.     Where  does  it  look? 

"  The  Lord  's  my  Shepherd,  I  'U  not  want, 
He  makes  me  down  to  lie 
In  pastui-es  green.    He  leadeth  me 
The  quiet  waters  by  ;" 

He  restoreth  my  soul.  Who  shall  lay  any  thing  to  the  charge 
of  God^s  elect  f  It  is  Christ  that  died;  yea^  rather  that  is 
risen  again.,  ivho  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God. 

There  is  sucb  a  thing  as  love.  What  kindles  it  ?  We 
love  HIM,  hecause  HE  first  loved  us.  If  Christ  so  loved  us, 
we  ought  also  to  love  one  another. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  hoipe.  And  it  casts  anchor 
within  the  veil,  whither  and  hecause  the  Forerunner  hath 
himself  for  us  entered. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  resignation.  Whence  comes 
it?  It  is  the  Lord;  let  him  do  lohat  seemeth  good  in  HIS 
sight.     Tlioiigh  HE  slay  me,  yet  will  I  trust  in  HIM. 

This  is  a  strange  world.     We  often  tread  in  rough 


116  THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER  PRE-EMINENT. 

places.  Dark  days  will  come.  How  different  the  lot  of 
many  of  us,  from  what  we  expected,  when  the  sun  of  our 
youth  rose  smiling  on  us,  and  the  blood  of  our  youth 
leaped  joyfully  in  the  channels  that  God  made  for  it. 
In  times  of  the  heart's  desolation,  our  props  knocked 
away,  our  comforts  gone,  the  past  too  painful  to  remem- 
ber, and  the  future  promising  to  be  more  painful  still ; — ■ 
oh,  we  could  not  bear  up  under  life's  sorrows,  much  less 
be  profited  by  them.,  if  we  might  not  learn  to  say,  in  the 
time  of  trouble  HE  shall  hide  me  in  HIS  pavilion^  in  the  secret 
of  HIS  tabernacle  shall  HE  hide  me. 

This  conviction,  and  repentance,  and  faith,  and  hope, 
and  love,  and  resignation,  and  sweet  confidence  in  God, 
all  lie  among  the  experiences  which  go  most  certainly  to 
form  our  religious  character ;  and  they  all  exist  as  sim- 
ply the  results  of  just  ideas  of  the  character  of  God, 
imprinted  upon  the  soul  by  the  Holy  Spirit. 

As  you  trace  (so  far  as  it  belongs  to  human  sagacity 
to  trace  at  all)  the  advancement  of  any  human  soul  in 
holiness  and  ripeness  for  death  and  heaven,  you  will 
always  find  that  advancement  just  connected  with  a 
clearer  conception  of  God's  character,  and  an  additional 
intimacy  of  communion  Avith  him.  In  the  infancy  of 
religion,  men  think  much  of  moral  machinery  to  do 
them  good.  In  the  old  age  of  religion,  they  think 
much  of  God.  They  have  got  beyond  other  reliances 
and  resources.  The  whole  history  of  their  religious 
training  and  maturing  has  consisted  very  much  in  this, 
that  they  have  learned  to  think  of  creatures  less,  and  to 
know  God  better.  More  just  and  more  perfect  ideas  of 
his  whole  character,  as  holj",  just  and  good,  as  Governor, 
and  Redeemer,  and  Guide,  and  Friend,  have  helped 
them  on  in  the  pathway  of  holiness,  and  now  throw  an 


THE   DIVINE   CHARACTER   PRE-EMINENT.  117 

additional  light  upon  it,  as  it  winds  down  to  the  tomb. 
To  tbem  God  is  every  thing.  Thej  have  learnt  to  know 
him  better  than  they  used  to  know  him.  His  character 
has  become  more  amazing,  grand  and  good — more 
awful,  but  more  sweet  and  attractive.  The  effect  has 
been,  that  they  lie  before  him  more  low  in  humiliation, 
but  more  happy  in  hope — deeper  in  reverence,  but  more 
satisfied  to  let  God  reign.  They  are  glad  he  does  reign. 
They  are  amazed  at  his  mercy  to  them  as  sinners,  but 
they  know  it  all,  they  hope  in  it  all,  they  rejoice  in  it 
all,  without  doubting  or  fear,  because  they  know  God — 
grace  reigns  through  righteousness  unto  eternal  life^  hy  Jesus 
Clirist  our  Lord. 

Because  God  is  the  Head  of  the  universe — because 
rectitude  and  good  conscience  are  vital  matters  in  relig- 
ion— because  all  religion  is  founded  upon  the  being  and 
character  of  God — and  because  that  character  is  the 
great  moral  and  spiritual  means  for  training  all  true 
piety — for  these  reasons,  just  ideas  of  God's  character 
are  of  infinite  moment  to  us.  Render  unto  God  the  things 
that  are  God^s. 

The  conclusions  from  this  subject,  such  as  the  follow- 
ing, can  only  be  named,  and  left  to  your  reflection.  We 
see  from  this  doctrine : 

1.  That  any  error  about  the  character  of  God  is  vital 
error.  It  changes  the  whole  of  religion.  It  may  do  for 
us  to  mistake  his  works,  but  it  will  not  do  for  us  to 
mistake  his  will.  An  error  on  nature,  on  providence, 
on  science,  on  scholarship,  is  only  a  little  matter,  and 
can  not  corrupt  every  thing — it  may  leave  a  thousand 
other  truths  unharmed ;  but  an  error  about  God  flings 
its  evil   over  every   thing   else — every   thing  in   both 


118  THE   DIVINE   CHAKACTER   PRE-EMINENT. 

worlds  I  It  makes  duty  different,  and  holiness  different ; 
it  makes  heaven  and  hell  different ! 

2.  Therefore  you  need  have  little  fear  about  any  error 
in  religion  which  leaves  the  character  of  God  to  stand  in 
its  own  place,  and  unchanged.  That  one  thing  right 
will  put  every  thing  else  right.  That  wrong,  all  else 
will  be  wrong.  That  character  stands  in  the  way  of  all 
falsehood  and  error. 

8.  Familiar  expressions  about  the  Deity  are  alwaj^s 
utterly  inappropriate  and  untasteful.  Awe  becomes  us 
— solemn  reverence  before  Him,  our  ideas  about  whom, 
just,  shall  help  us  toward  heaven,  unjust,  shall  help  us 
toward  hell.  Put  off  thy  shoes  from  off  thy  feet^  the  ground 
whereon  thou  standest  is  holy  ground.  It  is  no  place  to 
trifle,  by  the  burning  bush ! 

4.  We  see  from  this  subject,  that  the  fit  mode  of 
studying  religion,  even  intellectually^  is  to  begin  with 
God,  and  keep  the  character  of  God  the  presiding  idea 
at  every  step,  and  in  every  reflection.  The  Bible  does 
this — you  should  do  this.  According  to  what  God  is, 
you  must  be — and  all  the  universe  must  be.  If  ever  you 
lose  sight  of  him,  you  are  afloat  on  an  ocean  of  midnight 
— nothing  to  moor  to,  and  not  a  star  to  steer  by.  The 
stars  were  not  made  for  eternity. 

5.  Speculations,  governmental  or  economical — social- 
ism— utility — doctrines  about  human  rights  and  duties, 
drawn  from  the  world  merely — all  such  things  are  so  far 
from  being  Biblical  or  Christian,  that  they  are  unworthy 
of  a  sober  Deist.  God  rules  his  world,  and  not  his 
world  him.  The  principles  of  his  government  are  as 
high  and  deep  as  the  attributes  of  his  character ;  and  to 
forget  God  and  look  at  mere  things  and  their  relations, 
is  to  turn  from  the  fountain  of  light  to  the  bosom  of 


THE  DIVINE   CHARACTER  PRE-EMINENT.  119 

darkness.  Ministers  of  the  Gospel  ought  to  feel  that 
thej  stand  upon  firmer  and  loftier  ground  than  those 
speculations  which  profess  to  learn  truth  and  duty  from 
mere  yisible  things  and  earthly  analogies.  They  have 
God's  eternal  Word.  That  is  eternal  rock.  Yisibilities 
go  but  a  little  way.  The  lost  Pleiad!  it  has  left  a 
vacancy  in  the  heavens !  and  Avhat  speculation  or  anal- 
ogy could  dare  to  conjecture,  aside  from  the  character 
of  God;  the  duties  of  the  beings  who  once  inhabited  it  ? 
We  live  for  Eternity — for  God!  Preach  God,  my 
brethren,  God  in  Christ,  God  more  revealed,  and  more 
glorified,  and  more  august  and  attractive  in  the  great 
Eedemption  than  in  any  thing  else.  Let  the  Divine 
character  be  your  guide,  and  you  may  resemble  the 
angel  standing  in  the  sun — you  will  be  bathed  in  light, 
and  light  to  reach  all  luorlds. 

6.  Finally.  For  all  and  every  one  of  the  purposes  of 
piety,  you  need  much  converse  with  God.  Piety  can 
not  grow  or  be  secure  without  it.  Every  plant  of  Para- 
dise must  be  watered  with  the  dews  of  heaven.  Walk 
with  God.  Eender  him  his  due.  See  him  everj^  where, 
and  reverence  him  every  where.  Love  him  and  serve 
him  in  the  faith  of  Christ,  if  you  would  have  peace  in 
the  hour  when  the  dust  shall  return  to  the  dust,  as  it  was, 
and  the  spirit  shall  return  to  God  ivho  gave  it.  Render 
unto  God  the  things  that  are  God^s. 


#11   ^nctotng   (®alr. 

And  this  is  life  eternal,  that  they  might  know  thee,  the  only  true  God,  anu 
Jesus  Christ,  whom  thou  has  sent. — John,  xvii.  3. 

rpHESE  are  the  words  of  Jesus  Christ.  They  occur  in 
that  intercessory  prayer  which  he  offered  on  the  eve 
of  his  crucifixion.  At  such  a  time,  his  mind  naturally 
lingered  around  the  essential  principles  of  that  august 
mission  which  brought  him  into  the  world,  and  was  now 
taking  him  out  of  it.  Keady  to  shed  his  blood  to  give 
eternal  life  to  as  many  as  the  Father  had  given  him  ;  his 
prayers  take  hold  on  this  principle  of  the  eternal  cove- 
nant, and  then  he  adds.  This  is  life  eternal,  that  they  might 
know  thee,  the  only  true  Ood,  and  Jesus  Christy  whom  thou 
hast  sent.  The  expression  is  remarkable.  He  speaks  of 
knowing  God.  Omitting  all  other  ideas  and  suggestions 
of  the  text,  let  us  attend  to  this.  He  speaks  of  knowing 
God.  It  is  not  nature — system — destiny — contrivance — 
plan ;  it  is  God.  The  mind  of  the  Saviour  passes  over 
all  things  else,  and  centers  upon  the  Infinite  One,  and 
the  Christ  sent  to  reveal  him,  when  he  considers  the 
method  in  which  eternal  life  must  come  to  his  disciples. 
The  method  of  Christ  and  a  Christian's  heart  is  very 
different  from  the  loved  method  of  an  unsanctified 
understanding.  Christ  and  a  Christian's  heart  find  the 
essence  of  all  that  is  desirable  in  the  knowledge  of  Ood. 


ON   KNOWING   GOD.  121 

An  unsanctified  ■anderstanding,  darkened  and  deceiving, 
is  mucli  more  prone,  even  in  religious  investigation,  to 
study  man  and  what  befits  him,  than  to  stud}^  the  charac- 
ter of  God,  and  thus  be  led  to  see,  that  all  the  universe 
must  bend  to  the  infinite  and  changeless  nature  of  him 
who  presides  over  it.  But  we  must  not  stop  in  these 
minor  truths ;  we  must  know  God^  if  we  would  have 
eternal  life.  Hence,  as  the  plan  of  this  discourse,  we  pro- 
pose, 

# 

I.  To  make  some  general  remarks  on  this  subject  of 
study  and  knowledge.     And, 

II.  To  present  some  more  direct  arguments  for  induc- 
ing men  to  aim  at  knowing  _God. 

I.  "We  are  to  make  some  remarks  of  a  general  nature 
on  the  knowledge  of  God. 

1.  The  first  remark  is,  that  the  existence  of  God  is  that 
grand  fact  which  lies  at  the  foundation  of  all  true  relig- 
ion ;  and  therefore,  the  knowledge  of  God  himself  is  the 
touch-stone  of  its  principles.  Error  and  falsehood  are 
not  going  to  yield  to  any  science  but  that  of  Deity.  Sin 
is  not  to  be  reasoned  out  of  the  world,  or  out  of  the 
Church,  by  any  of  those  demonstrations  which  do  not 
fling  man,  and  all  his  reason  together,  in  the  dust,  befoi'e 
the  awful  glories  of  the  Infinite  One.  Keligion  will  be 
superficial,  proud,  arrogant,  worldly,  and,  therefore,  cor- 
rupted and  deceitful,  if  it  is  not  first  formed,  and  then 
tempered,  and  purified,  and  guided  hj  tlie  knowledge  of 
God. 

2.  A  second  remark.  It  is  the  lack  of  this  kno\vl<  i  ;<. 
which  sustains  impiety.  The  stupidity  of  unconvwrlud 
sinners  would  be  gone  if  they  saw  clearly  what  God  is. 

G 


122  ON  KNOWING  GOD. 

It  could  not  continue.  Their  hearts  would  trouble  them. 
They  would  see  they  are  more  fit  for  hell  than  heaven. 
They  would  perceive  themselves  to  be  less  like  God, 
than  like  any  other  being !  The  depravity  of  their 
hearts  would  fill  them  with  confusion  and  shame ;  and 
before  the  fears  of  a  deserved  condemnation,  they  would 
cry  out,  IVhat  must  tve  do  to  he  saved?  Bat  to  avoid  this 
distress,  they  choose  to  study  religion  (if  tliey  study  it  at 
all)  by  some  other  light  and  gaide  than  the  character  of 
God.  That  one  thing  they  shun.  They  do  not  like  to 
retain  God  in  their  'knoiuledge.  Oh  !  how  often,  very  often, 
they  will  abandon  the  ministry,  which  would  teach  them 
the  only  true  God,  and  take  refuge  under  that  teaching 
which  comports  better  with  their  erroneous  feelings,  and 
the  equally  erroneous  and  dangerous  principles  of  their 
own  dark  and  unconverted  souls  !  If  impenitent  sinners 
knew  what  God  is,  their  stupidity  would  be  gone. 

3.  If  Christians  knew  God  better,  their  piety  would  be 
increased.  Those  ancient  saints,  whose  happy  attain- 
ments held  them  superior  to  the  world,  always  nurtured 
their  piety  by  much  study  and  fellowship  Vvdth  God. 
They  were  nursed  on  the  bosom  of  God.  Yery  likelj^, 
they  have  not  been  eminent  in  mere  speculative  views 
of  other  things.  Human  science  did  little  for  them  ;  and 
even  religious  systems  of  human  coinage,  though  formed 
on  the  foundation  of  the  Apostles  and,  Projjhets^  lent  them 
little  aid  in  comparison  with  what  they  gained  by  direct 
contemplations  on  the  Deity,  and  a  holy  intimacy  with 
him.  Enoch  'walked  witJi  Ood^  is  a  description  which 
intimates  his  manner  of  religious  study  and  living.  A 
Christian's  piety  is  not  to  be  nurtured,  merely  by  con- 
sidering the  blessings  he  needs  and  receives,  and  the  sins 
he  repents  of.     Oh !  no :  it  will  be  better  nurtured  when 


ON   KNOWING  GOD.  123 

he  stirs  up  his  soul  to  the  study  of  God  himself,  and  fixes 
his  heart  to  come  directly  into  the  presence-chamber  of 
the  Kiwj  of  kings. 

4.  This  subject  of  knowledge  can  never  be  exhausted. 
Piety  on  earth  and  piety  in  heaven  will  never  exhaust 
it !  A  finite  mind,  perhaps,  beginning  here  its  stud}', 
and  continuing  it  beyond  the  tomb,  mastering  one  diffi- 
culty after  another,  may  reach  some  point  in  its  eternity, 
when  it  shall  have  compassed  all  other  subjects,  and  be 
able  to  look  down  upon  and  over  all  other  fields  of 
knowledge  without  darkness  and  without  a  doubt.  But 
God  stills  lies  above  it — ^beyond  it !  From  that  won- 
derful point  in  eternity,  and  that  wonderful  elevation, 
which  not  even  an  angel  has  yet  reached,  the  soul  will 
see  depths  in  the  ocean  of  the  Divine  Nature  yet  to  be 
explored,  and,  sanctified  and  sublimated,  will  be  invited 
to  stir  up  its  powers  to  more  wonderful  and  blissful  views 
of  the  Infinite  One  ! 

Let  us  begin  now.  Let  us  know  God  better.  Many 
bright  lessons  are  within  our  reach.  They  are  lessons  of 
eternal  life.  Acquaintance  with  God  is  the  felicity  and 
the  security  of  heaven,  and  on  earth  our  profit  and  bliss 
will  bear  a  near  proportion  to  the  clear  discernment  we 
attain  of  his  character. 

6.  This  knowledge  of  God  is  not  confined  to  the 
understanding.  It  occupies  the  understanding,  but  not 
that  alone.  There  is  a  vital  difference  between  all  the 
knowledge  of  the  Deity  ever  attained  by  mere  specula- 
tion and  that  intended  in  the  text.  By  a  true  knowl- 
edge of  God,  we  shall  have  a  clear  and  experimental  dis- 
cernment of  his  glory — of  the  excellency,  and  beauty, 
and  grandeur^  and  loveliness  of  his  character.  Hence, 
we  shall  feel  the  desirableness  of  being  like  him.     The 


124  OK   KNOWING  GOD. 

mincl,  the  heart,  will  go  out  in  delightful  exercises;  and 
we  shall  begin  to  realize  how  blessed  and  glorious  a 
Being  God  is,  and  how  blessed  we  should  be,  if  we 
should  cease  to  be  sinful,  and  selfish,  and  worldly,  and 
should  be  taken  up  into  heaven,  to  dwell  with  him,  and 
behold  his  face,  and  be  like  him  for  ever  and  ever! 
This  is  the  knowledge  of  God.  It  takes  hold  on  the 
heart.  It  is  experimental.  It  is  sweet,  precious,  solid, 
calm.  It  is  what  the  most  favored  saint  enjoys  when, 
embracing  Jesus  Christ  by  a  living  faith,  he  sees  the 
glory  of  the  Father  in  the  face  of  the  Son,  and  delights 
to  lay  himself  down  in  the  hand  of  God,  as  a  helpless, 
believing,  and  happy  child  ! 

This  knowledge  of  God,  therefore,  includes  clear  intel- 
lectual discernment  and  right  affections  of  heart.  It  is 
spiritual.  It  is  the  experience  of  a  heart  linked  wdth 
God.  It  includes  extensive  understanding,  and  that 
understanding  gained  by  the  filial  and  family  spirit  of 
an  adopted  child.     Mind  and  heart  both  know  God. 

6.  That  our  relations  to  God  are  such  that  we  ought 
greatly  to  desire  to  know  him  as  he  is — to  know  him 
well.  He  is  our  Maker,  and  therefore  the  proprietor  of 
our  being.  From  his  fingers  drop  all  our  mercies.  We 
have  not  a  comfort  but  he  gives  it — and  never  shall 
have.  He  will  be  our  final  Judge.  He  holds  our  eter- 
nal destinies  in  his  hand.  To  know  ffim,  therefore,  is 
of  more  moment  to  us  than  to  know  all  other  beings  in 
the  universe.  We  have  more  to  do  with  him  than  with 
all  others.  We  have  to  do  with  him  every  moment  of 
our  lives^  and  ever  shall  have  in  all  our  eternity. 
According  to  what  he  is,  we  must  demean  ourselves,  or 
we  must  suffer.  We  are  anxious  to  know  the  men  we 
have  to  deal  with^  and  how  strange  it  is  that  we  should 


ON  KNOWING  GOD.  125 

be  indifFerent  about  knowing  the  God  we  have  to  deal 
with  !  Did  some  earthly  prince  hold  dominion  over  us, 
through  the  actions  of  whom  we  were  daily  receiving 
manifestations  of  kind  disposition,  mingled  with  tokens 
of  no  small  displeasure  against  us,  we  should  be  anxious 
to  know  all  about  him,  and  learn  what  he  was  going  to 
do  with  us  at  last.  Should  some  unseen  friend  send  us 
daily  comforts,  whose  heart  would  not  desire  to  know 
the  individual  whose  daily  kindness  was  a  daily  bless- 
ing? But  this  our  God  scatters  his  mercies  all  along 
our  path.  We  have  them  in  the  earth,  the  air,  the  sea, 
the  skies.  Midnight  and  noon  teach  them.  He  blesses 
us  with  bounty  in  summer  and  winter.  He  makes  the 
bird's  song  to  cheer  us,  and  the  blushes  and  fragrance  of 
the  wild-flower  to  make  us  happy.  He  puts  kindness 
into  the  hearts  of  the  friends  that  take  care  of  us  when 
we  are  sick.  It  was  he  who  guided  the  hand  of  the 
mother  and  the  father,  which  wiped  the  tears  of  bitterness 
from  our  youthful  cheek.  Surely,  if  we  ought  to  desire 
to  know  any  thing,  we  should  desire  to  know  God. 

II.  Let  us,  then,  in  the  second  place,  present  some 
direct  arguments  for  this  study.  We  name  five  of  them, 
and  leave  you  to  fill  up  the  lesson  for  yourselves. 

1.  This  knowledge  of  God  tends,  above  all  things,  to 
humble  us. 

Humility,  the  true  and  happy  humility  of  the  Chris- 
tian, comes,  most  of  all,  from  a  clear  knowledge  of  God. 
It  is  when  we  know  him  best  that  we  know  ourselves 
best.  It  is  knowing  God  that  dissipates  oar  delusions. 
AVe  need  to  come  near  to  him,  to  gaze  directly  at  his 
character  in  all  its  glorious  excellences — to  see  his  holy 
and  lovely  purity,  and  justice,  and  mercy — to  have  an 


126  ON   KNOWING   GOD. 

intimate  and  spiritual  discernment  of  liis  spotless  excel- 
lence, of  liis  holy  hatred  of  sin,  of  his  infinite  love  of 
holiness — ^before  we  shall  ever  attain  the  due  humility 
of  a  Christian.  This  humility  is  not  going  to  be  engen- 
dered by  the  considerations  and  glooms  of  guilt.  All 
our  tremblings  at  deserved  and  dreadful  wrath,  all  the 
terrors  of  hell,  are  not  enough.  Kemorse,  its  stings  and 
terrors,  a  sense  of  guilt,  and  fears  and  tremblings,  exist 
in  hell — ^but  there  is  no  humility  there.  Man,  as  a 
Christian,  as  a  sanctified  and  safe-guided  sinner,  is  led  to 
a  true  sense  of  sin  far  more  by  seeing  what  God  is,  than 
by  considering  the  iniquities  which  he  himself  has  com- 
mitted. When  one  has  a  near  view  of  God,  a  clear  dis- 
covery of  the  excellency  and  majesty  of  his  holiness,  he 
sees  most  clearly  the  evil  of  sinning  against  him.  Such 
a  sight  lays  the  soul  in  the  dust,  not  so  much  by  the 
sadness  of  guilt  as  in  adoring  and  humble  wonder  at  the 
mercy  of  God.  This  was  the  experience  of  David  in  his 
conviction  :  Against  thee,  thee  only  have  I  sinned,  and  done 
this  evil  in  thy  sight.  The  most  humbling  idea  there  is 
about  sin  is,  that  it  is  against  God. 

It  is  true,  the  Christian  will  find  arguments  for  humil- 
iation in  the  remembrance  of  his  sins,  and  he  ought 
never  to  forget  them.  But  after  all,  his  holiest  and 
sweetest  humility  will  come  from  his  acquaintance  with 
God,  and  contemplations  on  his  character.  There  is  a 
vast  difference  between  the  humility  produced  by  con- 
templations of  guilt  and  the  contemplations  of  God. 
Views  of  our  guilt  may  humble  us  (if  we  are  Christians), 
but  they  are  agitating;  the  soul  is  troubled,  and  agi- 
tated, and  uneasy.  Views  of  God,  showing  us  what  sin 
deserves,  and  wiiat  we  are,  make  the  soul  calm — its 
mere  feelings   lie   still,   hushed   and   overawed  hy  the 


ON   KNOWING   GOD.  127 

holiness  and  excellences  of  God.  As  we  contemplate 
our  guilt,  our  bumilit}^  is  apt  to  be  bitter  and  passionate ; 
as  we  perceive  the  holiness  and  majesty  of  God,  our 
humility  becomes  deep,  still,  subdued  and  satisfying. 
Views  of  our  guilt  give  rise  to  feelings  tormenting, 
desponding;  and  hence  remorse,  under  the  scorpion 
stings  of  a  guilty  conscience,  sometimes  drives  one  to  vio- 
lence against  himself — Judas  hangs  himself,  and  plunges 
to  his  own  place !  But  that  humility  which  arises  from  a 
clear  view  of  the  nature  of  God,  is  solid,  peaceful,  hojje- 
fal.  Yes,  it  cherishes  hope,  because  the  very  views  of 
God  which  flung  the  sinner  in  the  dust  teach  him  he 
can  hope,  and  may  hope.  God  was  the  leading  object 
in  the  knowledge  which  humbled  him,  and  he  keeps  on 
thinking  of  God,  and  loves  to  be  humble.  He  sees  the 
fitness  of  it,  and  sees  his  infinite  perfections  can  reach 
down  comfort  to  his  sackcloth  and  ashes.  Those  very 
perfections  of  God  which  humble  him  most  are  the  very 
perfections  which  tell  him  to  sa}^  to  his  soul,  My  soul, 
hope  thou  in  God — I  shall  yet  irraise  him. 

That  kind  of  humiliation  which  springs  from  the 
mere  contemplation  of  guiltiness  and  ilhdesert,  often 
gives  rise  to  the  sensibilit}^,  that  one  can  not  endure  to 
feel  so  criminal,  and  unworthy,  and  vile :  that  which 
springs  from  the  knowledge  of  God  shows  one  the  fitness 
of  just  such  feelings :  the  believer  would  not  have  any 
other ;  he  would  lie  in  the  dust,  speechless  and  satisfied ; 
and  lifting  a  beseeching  look  to  Christ,  he  loves  to  lie  in- 
finitely low  before  God,  and  be  an  infinite  debtor  to  Di- 
vine grace.  He  loves  to  feel  his  unworthiness.  The 
more  he  feels  it,  the  happier  he  is.  Views  of  God  re- 
vealed it  to  him,  and  he  saw  the  fitness  of  lajnng  him- 
self in  the  dust.     He  would  not  be  any  where  else  if  he 


128  ox  Kxowixa  god. 

could.  And  a  sense  of  guilt  leads  him  back  again,  to 
adore  and  wonder  at  the  precious  mercj^  of  his  Grod  and 
Saviour !  Hence,  in  his  humility  he  is  happy  in  think- 
ing of  God ;  and  he  thinks  of  him,  his  character,  and 
glories,  and  excellences,  far  more  than  he  occupies  him- 
self about  his  own  character  or  destiny.  He  is  taken  up 
with  thinking  of  God.  He  loves  to  lie  at  his  feet,  a 
humbled,  hoping,  and  happy  spirit,  and  look  up  on  the 
excellences  of  God,  and  let  him  do  as  he  will. 

Convicted  sinners  often  try  to  humble  themselves  by 
recollecting  and  weighing  their  sins.  Such  a  mind  ex- 
pects humility  from  the  power  of  a  remorseful  con- 
science. Such  a  sinner  calls  himself  base,  unworthy, 
guilty ;  he  multiplies  epithets  upon  himself,  and  strives 
to  feel  the  burden  of  all  his  deformity  and  guilt,  and 
then  wonders  that  his  heart  don't  give  way — bow  or 
break  !  But  such  views  are  not  going  to  break  or  bend 
it.  Animal  feelings  may  be  crushed  by  them,  and 
nothing  but  animal  feelings.  The  spirit  itself  will  yield 
up  its  self  righteousness  and  pride,  not  by  a  stronger 
sense  of  guilt,  but  by  clearer  views  of  God.  A  spiritual 
knowledge  of  the  Divine  character — to  perceive  God  to 
be  so  holy  and  excellent,  that  eternal  woe  is  due  to  the 
being  who  does  not  love  him;  to  see  with  a  spiritual 
eye,  that  God  could  not  and  ought  not  to  do  less  than 
turn  the  sinning  angels  down  to  hell,  and  turn  this  sin- 
ning world  into  a  place  of  groans  and  dying,  and  smite 
the  head  of  his  own  Son  to  save  a  sinner  from  hell — these 
are  views  which  will  bring  the  power  of  the  Divine  char- 
acter on  the  spirit  of  the  sinner,  and  teach  him  to  feel  (if 
any  thing  will)  that  his  humblest  spirit  can  say, 

"  If  my  soul  were  sent  to  hell, 
Thy  righteous  law  approves  it  well." 


ON  KNOWING  GOD.  129 

But  sucli  a  humbled  soul  does  not  much  fear  hell. 
There  are  mainly  three  reasons  why  he  does  not. 

(1)  He  loves  a  sense  of  his  guilt  and  ill-desert.  He  is 
Qever  so  happy  as  when  he  realizes  his  unworthiness  and 
takes  his  place  in  the  dust.  It  is  his  own  place.  It  is 
fit  he  should  be  there.  He  would  not  be  any  where  else 
before  God.  He  would  not  desire  to  lose  a  sense  of  his 
guiltiness  if  he  were  in  heaven,  but  sing  on  for  ever,  Unto 
Him  that  loved  us,  and  luashed  us  from  our  sins  in  his  own 
blood.  It  is  so  fit,  therefore,  and  so  good  to  him,  to 
realize  with  humbled  spirit  his  pollution  and  guilt,  that 
fears  vanish ;  and  the  deeper  his  sense  of  guilt,  the  hap- 
pier his  humbled  spirit  is. 

(2)  A  second  reason  why  he  does  not  fear  hell  is,  that 
while  he  lies  thus  in  the  dust,  and  wraps  his  face  in  the 
sackcloth  that  covers  him,  he  is  just  thinking  of  God — 
of  God,  and  half-forgets  himself. 

(3)  A  third  reason  is,  that  while  his  mind  is  wrapt  in 
the  vision  of  his  God,  his  humility  consists  very  much 
in  wonder  and  amazement  at  the  patience  and  mercy  of 
God  that  have  spared  him ;  and  the  same  patience  and 
mercy  he  sees  can  do  any  thing — can  even  save  him, 
guilty  as  he  is,  if  they  could  spare  him  so  long.  He  sees 
the  reason  why  he  is  not  already  in  hell  is  to  be  found 
in  the  Deity,  not  in  himself;  and  in  that  wonderful 
ocean,  the  mercy  of  God,  he  casts  anchor  for  his  ship- 
wrecked and  troubled  soul. 

Hence,  that  mystery  is  explained,  how  the  deepest 
humility  is  connected  with  the  most  enduring  and  un- 
yielding fortitude.  Such  a  humihty  converses  with  God, 
and  is  indifferent  to  human  distinctions  and  mere  human 
rewards.  And  that  other  mystery  is  explained,  how 
the  humblest  soul  is  the  least  fearful  and  the  happiest. 


130  ON  KNOWING   GOD. 

Sucli  a  soul  is  satisfied  that  God  should  do  as  he  will. 
And  that  other  mystery  too,  how  the  deepest  sense  of 
Divine  things  is  without  show,  and  makes  one  very 
modest,  and  retiring,  and  stilh  Such  a  one  resembles 
Eh'jah  on  Mount  Horeb.  It  was  not  the  great  and  strong 
wind,  that  rent  the,  mountains  and  hrahe  in  irleces  the  rocks  ; 
it  was  not  the  earthquake,  nor  the  fire,  that  moved  him  ; 
but  he  felt  that  God  was  in  the  stilly  small  voice,  and  he 
wrapped  his  face  in  his  mantle.  It  is  always  so.  A  true 
sight  of  God  is  most  efficacious  of  all  things  to  humble 
us.  Woe  is  me  I  lamiindone.  Why!  Mine  eyes  have  seen 
the  King,  the  Lord  of  hosts. 

2.  We  name  a  second  argument.  This  knowledge  of 
God  tends  most  of  all  things  to  crucify  us  to  the  world. 

To  have  a  spiritual  understanding  of  the  exceeding 
excellences  of  God,  to  perceive  the  delights  of  contem- 
plating him  and  communing  with  him,  makes  the  world 
seem  but  a  very  little  thing.  It  shows  us  its  emptiness, 
its  vanity  and  nothingness.  It  lifts  us  above  it ;  and  thus 
does  most  to  fit  us  to  live  for  God  and  eternity.  Con- 
siderations of  another  nature,  designed  and  adapted  to 
crucify  us  unto  the  ivorld  and  the  world  unto  us,  often  ex- 
perience a  very  signal  and  sensible  failure.  There  are 
such ;  and  we  are  sometimes  compelled  to  wonder  that 
they  have  no  more  abiding  power  over  the  human  mind. 
We  can  easily  and  vividly  paint  the  littleness  of  the 
world,  and  all  that  is  in  it.  Dismal  facts,  which  form  the 
burden  of  its  history,  are  too  numerous  and  too  thick,  to 
leave  any  doubt  of  the  fidelity  of  the  picture,  which 
would  represent  its  entire  worthlessness  as  a  ]  ortion  for 
the  human  heart.  It  takes,  moreover,  but  a  moment  to 
lead  the  imagination  down  to  the  general  conflagration 
of  the  world.     And  there  is  scarcely  a  worldling  in  ex- 


ON  KNOWING  GOD.  131 

istence  who  does  not  know  and  feel  that  we  speak  truly 
when  we  paint  his  prospects — few  smiles,  and  many  sor- 
rows, and  a  dark  and  dreadful  end  beyond  them.  But, 
after  all,  the  worldly  heart  turns  back ;  the  cold  Christian 
heart  lingers  and  hesitates  to  step  off,  and  let  go  of  a 
world  crumbling  into  nothing !  Thus  we  are  baffled. 
The  world  ivill  attract — will  appear  lovely — and  the 
power  of  the  most  appalling  demonstration  vanishes  be- 
fore the  rising  emotions  of  a  worldly  and  deceitfal  heart. 
But  when  we  can  get  the  eye  turned  on  God,  on  the 
glories  of  his  character — when  we  see  his  loveliness  in 
being  just  such  a  God  as  he  is,  and  the  desirableness  of 
being  like  him ;  then,  the  sweetness  of  his  majesty,  the 
friend  we  want  attracts  us — riches,  honors,  the  world  are 
dead,  and  the  heart  uses  that  new  arithmetic,  to  count  all 
things  loss  for  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge  of  God  in 
Christ  Jesus  our  Lord.  It  is  by  the  knowledge  of  God, 
and  by  nothing  else.  Things  seen  and  tew.poral  sink  be- 
fore the  discovered  excellences  of  things  unseen  and  eternal. 
Not  so  much  by  discovering  that  the  world  is  not  worth 
our  having,  as  by  discerning  that  God  ^5,  are  we  ever 
crucified  unto  the  luorld  and  the  world  unto  zis.  You  m.ay 
make  the  worldling  behold  desolation  stalk  over  all  his 
pleasant  fields ;  you  may  make  him  behold  his  honors 
withering  at  the  touch  of  truth  and  time ;  you  may  force 
him  to  lift  the  bitterest  chalice  of  luormivood  and  gall  that 
ever  cursed  human  lips ;  and  after  all,  he  will  love  the 
world  and  have  his  hopes  in  it.  And  so  far  as  the  Chris- 
tian, in  any  undue  sense,  is  worldly,  he  will  be  like  him. 
He  needs,  therefore,  to  know  God.  He  needs  to  feel  the 
attractions  of  his  character  and  his  communion.  He 
needs  to  lift  his  eyes  from  the  top  of  Pisgah,  and  fcel^ 
that  if  he  had  not  another  portion  or  another  friend  in 


132  ON    KNOWING   GOD. 

the  universe,  he  would  be  Imppj :  TJiou  art  my  portion  ; 
lohom  have  I  in  heaven  hut  thee  ?  and  there  is  none  in  all  the 
earth  that  I  d'^sire  besides  thee. 

3.  This  having  a  spiritual  knowledge  of  God  tends 
most  of  all  things  to  purify  the  heart. 

No  sight  is  so  transforming  as  that  of  God.  When 
we  can  have  our  minds  and  hearts  brought  so  as  to  see 
with  open  face  the  glory  of  the  Lord,  toe  are  changed  into  the 
same  image  from  glory  to  glory.  When  the  believer  has  a 
clear  spiritual  discernment  of  God,  he  sees  it  is  reason- 
able, yea  the  most  delightful  duty^  to  devote  himself  and 
all  he  has  to  God,  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost.  He 
takes  motives  for  holy  living  from  God  himself;  sin  puts 
on  the  appearance  of  ugliness,  and  the  v/orld,  its  honors 
and  once  coveted  emoluments,  lie  dead  and  forgotten  at 
his  feet.  Christians  do  not  cease  to  sin,  so  much  by  the 
horrors  of  conscience  and  fear,  as  by  the  love  of  God. 
The  attempt  to  beat  sin  out  of  the  heart  by  a  lash  of 
scorpions,  fails.  Views  of  God  are  more  purifying  than 
all  the  fears,  and  glooms,  and  distresses  of  a  convicted 
spirit.  You  can't  reason  sin  out  of  the  heart,  or  love  into 
it.  It  must  be  faith  in  God  as  he  is,  reconciling  the  world 
unto  himself,  seeing  him,  knowing  him  as  he  is,  that  must 
purify  the  heart.  This  wins  it.  This  delightfully  fills, 
and  satisfies,  and  attracts  it.  This  brings  the  awe  of  the 
upper  sanctuary  down  to  hush  the  commotions  of  siu. 
Sin  never  appears  of  such  horrid  magnitude  as  when  we 
see  how  it  offends  Deity,  outrages  all  his  loveliest  attri- 
butes, and  requires  the  labors,  the  life,  and  the  death  of 
the  Son  of  God  to  atone  for  it.  Sin  never  appears  of 
such  horrid  deformity  and  unloveliness,  as  when  God  is 
so  known,  that  sin  is  seen  in  malignant  contest  against 
all  that  is  amiable  and  good. 


ON   KNOWING   GOD.  183 

4.  This  knowledge  of  God  tends,  most  of  all  tilings,  to 
confirm  and  establish  the  believer's  heart.  Speculation 
can  not  do  it.  Self-examination,  submission  to  creeds 
and  forms,  and  all  study  of  doctrines,  can  not  do  it. 
One  must  be  established,  by  a  conscious  and  vital  expe- 
rience— such  experience  as  shall  make  the  soul  feel  that 
it  rests  on  God,  an  everMsting  rock.  To  have  full  views 
of  God;  to  know  him  by  direct  fellowship  and  com- 
munion ;  to  live  in  his  presence,  and  lie  down  and  feel 
that  the  everlasting  arms  are  around  him,  shows  to  the 
believer  the  fullness  and  the  faithfulness  of  God,  and 
confirms  his  heart  in  something  like  the  full  assurance  of 
hope.  iSTow  he  can  call  God  his  Father.  He  can  look 
at  that  house  not  made  with  hands^  and  call  it  his  own. 
His  heart,  his  whole  soul,  has  gone  directly  to  his  cove- 
nant God  in  Jesus  Christ,  drawn  hy  the  cords  of  that  per- 
ftct  love  which  casteth  out  fear. 

Hence,  finally,  such  a  knowledge  of  God  is  most  satis- 
fying and  safe.  Direct  views  of  God — a  solemn  and  holy 
intimacy  with  him — the  study  of  him,  such  as  the  heart 
takes  when  he  communes  with  us  from  of  the  mercy-seat, 
and  breathes  into  the  soul  the  spirit  of  adoption,  are  more 
secure  and  more  blessed  than  any  others.  These  satisfy 
the  soul.  They  meet  its  immortal  wants.  God,  a  cove- 
nant God  and  Saviour,  fill  the  mind,  and  satisfy  its 
longings,  as  nothing  but  the  knowledge  and  enjoyment 
of  God  ever  can.  Then,  to  have  such  a  God  is  enough. 
His  glories  fill  the  eye.  His  love  satisfies  the  heart. 
Human  passions  lie  still ;  and  a  hol}^,  calm,  and  solid 
peace  possesses  the  tranquil  and  happy  spirit. 

My  Christian  brethren,  if  these  things  are  so,  how  ear- 
nestly ought  you  to  devote  yourselves  to  knoiu  the  only 


184  ON   KNOWING  GOD. 

true  Ood  and  Jesus  Christ  luhom  he  has  sent  This  is  your 
felicity,  your  usefalness,  and  your  life.  A  field  is  open 
before  you,  on  wliicli  the  most  precious  fruits  may  be 
gathered,  and  fi'uits  for  eternal  life.  You  ought  to  be 
ashamed  and  confounded,  when  you  are  satisfied  with 
small  measures  of  the  knowledge  of  God,  and  are  not 
aiming,  with  a  longing  intensity*T>f  desire,  to  know  your 
God  and  Saviour  better !  In  reading,  in  meditation,  and 
hearing,  and  praying,  and  in  the  sacraments,  you  ought 
to  aim  at  attaining  a  more  deep,  and  clear,  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  God.  By  noticing  his  providences,  and 
most  of  all,  his  gracious  and  wonderful  providences  re- 
specting your  souls,  you  ought  to  gain  more  clear  and 
transforming  views  of  his  glorious  attributes.  The  chil- 
dren of  his  adoption,  if  you  are  Christians,  you  ought  to 
live  in  his  family,  and  daily  behold  the  face  of  jowc 
Father.  You  ought  to  see  the  glory  of  God,  the  beauty 
and  desirableness  of  existing  only  to  serve  and  enjoy 
him.  You  ought  not  to  rest  satisfied  with  only  a  trem- 
bling hope,  and  leave  it  to  death,  eternity,  and  heaven, 
to  disclose  to  you  the  wonders  and  excellences  of  the 
Divine  character.  You  ought  to  partake  of  the  heavenly 
spirit.  The  grace  and  glories  of  redemption  are  revealed 
to  you ;  and  as  you  lift  your  eyes  from  the  top  of  Cal- 
vary to  the  throne  of  the  Majesty  in  heaven,  j-our  souls 
ought  to  become  more  and  more  like  heaven ;  when  you 
see  how  such  a  God  can  save  such  sinners,  by  the  grace 
of  redeeming  love,  and  by  the  groans  and  blood  of  his 
Son! 

Oh  !  it  is  not  fit,  it  is  shameful  that  a  Christian  should 
live  in  the  world,  under  such  a  government  of  God,  and 
have  such  chances  to  know  him,  and  love  him,  and  serve 
him  better,  and,  after  all,  be  satisfied  to  have  his  mind 


ox   KNOWING  GOD.  135 

ill  ignorance,  and  the  lights  and  comforts  of  his  religion 
little!  Such  be  not  ye.  Awake,  and  learn  to  know 
God  as  he  is.  Arouse  yourself,  and  enter  into  the 
knowledge  of  God ;  and  let  this  science  drive  out  sin, 
and  selfishness,  and  worldliness,  from  your  happy  and 
heavenly  hearts. 

But  some  of  you,  my  beloved  hearers,  are  still  impeni- 
tent sinners !  One  of  the  dreadful  descriptions  of  your 
condition  contained  in  the  Bible  is  this — them  that  knoio 
not  God.  And  can  you,  will  you  rest  thus  ?  You  are 
hasting  to  meet  him.  To  you,  that  great  ivhite  throne  will 
soon  be  clothed  in  the  majesty  of  redeeming  attractions, 
or  rocked  with  thunders  !  Prepare  for  that  hour !  Go 
not  up  to  that  throne  an  enemy  of  God  !  I  beseech 
you  by  all  that  is  sacred,  learn  to  know  God !  By  the 
terrors  and  mercies  of  that  tribunal — by  the  songs  of  bliss 
and  groans  of  despair  beyond  it — by  all  the  desirableness 
of  eternal  life  and  the  blood  that  bought  it — I  beseech 
you,  my  beloved,  but  unhappy  friend,  awake,  and  learn 
to  know  God!  acquaint  noiv  thyself  ivith  him,  and  he  at 
peace. 


Mishitt  of  6o&  ill  ^^steriJ. 

We  speak  the  wisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery. — 1  Cor.  ii.  7. 

T)AUL,  the  author  of  these  words,  here  gives  a  charac- 
J-  teristic  mark  of  the  gospel  message.  He  is  speaking 
of  this  message  ;  and  with  appropriate  and  characteristic 
pecuharity,  when  he  would  depict  it  to  us,  and  set  before 
our  mind  a  just  delineation  of  its  nature,  he  dips  his 
pencil  in  colors  of  mingled  glory  and  darkness.  No  man 
ever  knew  better  than  he,  the  depth  of  blasting  and  pollu- 
tion which  sin  hath  brought  down  upon  all  mankind ;  and 
no  man  ever  understood  better,  the  mingled  mystery  and 
brightness  of  the  scheme  of  God  which  saves  them  that 
believe.  And  no  man  was  ever  more  skillful  and  more 
truthful,  in  saying  just  what  he  ought  to  say — in  carry- 
ing his  explanations  as  far  as  to  the  just  point  and  no 
farther,  making  even  every  hint  and  every  suggestion 
conducive  to  the  true  end  of  study,  and  leaving  off  at  the 
true  point  of  propriety — a  point,  beyond  which  curiosity 
and  caviling  may  delight  themselves  with  vain  questions, 
but  neither  reason  nor  piety  can  be  profited.  This  he 
does  in  the  text.  He  calls  the  Gospel  the  ivisdom  of  God 
in  a  mystery.  It  is  both.  Light  and  darkness  are  here 
mingled  together.  It  is  wisdom^  but  it  is  wisdom  m  a 
mystery.  We  may  know  from  it  enough  to  make  us 
ivise  unto  salvation^  to  guide  us  through  the  changeful  and 
often  trying  scenes  of  a  wiidnerness-pilgrimage,  and  to 


WISDOM  OF   GOD   IN   MYSTERY.  137 

plant  our  footsteps  firmly  and  safely  on  the  happier  soil 
of  our  promised  land.  But  we  can  not  know  every  thing. 
This  wisdom  toill  he  a  mystery.  The  most  limited 
genius  might  ask  the  Gospel  a  thousand  questions,  to 
which  it  would  deign  to  give  liim  no  reply.  And  he 
would  be  wiser  than  unbelief  generally  is,  if  he  would 
never  reiterate  them  again,  if  he  would  only  use,  for  its 
glorious  purpose,  the  light  that  is  given  him,  and  be 
cheered  by  it,  and  walk  on  in  that  grace-illuminated 
track,  where  beams  of  brightness  shine,  and  not  turn 
himself  so  foolishly  to  be  bewildered  in  the  dark  way 
which  he  ought  never  to  tread,  and  which  neither  cheers 
him  nor  saves  him.  The  Gospel  never  proposes  to  give 
answers  to  the  catechism  of  curiosity.  Bat  it  does  pro- 
fess to  tell  every  sinner,  that  will  heed  it,  all  he  needs  to 
know  about  God,  about  pardon,  holiness,  and  every  thing 
else  embraced  in  his  being  ivise  unto  salvation.  Mystery 
though  it  be,  it  is  the  ivisdom  of  God.  It  could  not  be 
the  wisdom  of  God,  if  it  were  not  mystery. 

This  is  the  idea  of  this  text,  and  this  is  the  theme  of  this 
sermon.  We  are  going  to  show,  that  the  Gospel  is  the 
wisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery — that  it  reveals  a  way  of 
salvation  marked  with  the  traits  and  unity  of  God's 
wisdom,  and  comporting  with  the  "clouds  and  darkness 
that  are  round  about  him." 

That  this  discussion  may  not  become  too  long  to  be 
definite,  and,  more  especially,  that  we  may  have  before 
our  mind  the  precise  point  which  the  Apostle  had  before 
his,  let  us  notice  the  matter  on  which  he  was  speaking. 
"We  can  not  mistake  it.  It  was  the  mighty  theme  on 
which  he  loved  to  expatiate.  Here  his  thoughts  centered. 
Here  his  heart  exulted.  Here  his  hope  soared  and  his 
love  sung.      It  was  the  salvation  of  men  through  the 


138  WISDOM  OF   GOD  IN  MYSTERY. 

sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God.  Just  before  the  text,  in 
the  second  verse  of  the  chapter,  this  is  made  manifest : 
/  determined  not  to  hnow  any  thing  among  you  save  Jesus 
Christ  and  him  crucified.  He  is  talking  about  the  death 
of  Christ.  He  wants  faith  to  stand  there — not  in  tlie 
tvisdom  of  men,  but  in  the  power  of  God.  And  after  the 
text,  and  in  the  very  sentence  of  which  it  constitutes 
only  a  single  clause,  he  brings  out  the  same  idea  of  the 
crucifixion.  We  speak  the  luisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery, 
even  tl^e  hidden  wisdom  ivhich  God  ordained  before  the  ivoiM 
unto  our  glory ;  lohich  none  of  the  princes  of  this  ivorld 
knew  ;  for  had  they  known  if,  they  would  not  have  crucified 
the  Lord  of  glory.  The  Apostle  speaks  6i  the  death  of 
Christ  for  our  salvation  ;  and  this,  with  him,  is  the  ivisdom 
of  God  ill  a  mystery.  This  remark  will  limit  our  range  of 
thought,  Avhile  it  comports  with  the  duties  of  this  day, 
and  justifies  the  plan  of  this  sermon. 

I.  Let  us  fix  in  our  mind  the  matter  of  mysteriousness 
which  the  Apostle  had  in  his. 

II.  Let  us  demonstrate,  that  this  mysteriousness  is 
wisdom  especially  in  one  respect,  that  is,  that  it  is  just 
so  great  as  we  ought  to  expect,  and  no  greater,  on  the 
subject-matter  and  in  the  field  of  its  operation,  wherein 
it  accords  with  all  the  other  arrangements  of  the  plan  of 
redemption.  We  speak  on  the  principle,  that  human 
reason  expects  God  to  be  uniform,  and  consistent  with 
himself — like  himself— analogical  every  where — not  b}^ 
mere  nature's  analogies,  but  by  his  own.  This  is  one 
mark  of  wisdom.  The  mystery  of  the  expiation  com- 
ports with  the  mystery  of  sin  itself,  and  with  the  whole 
matchless  procedure  of  that  grace  which  conducts  a 
sinner  to  heaven. 


WISDOM  OF  GOD   IJ;  MYSTERY.  139 

I.  We  remark  the  mysterj^  wliicli  lies  in  the  cruci- 
fixion of  Jesus  Christ  as  he  was  slain  for  us. 

It  would  certainly  be  no  evidence  of  either  Christian 
wisdom  or  humility  in  any  man,  if  he  were  to  pre- 
tend, that  to  him  there  is  nothing  of  mysterious  aspect 
in  the  showing  of  the  Gospel,  when  it  speaks  of  the 
death  of  Christ,  its  necessitj^,  and  the  benefits  that  grow 
out  of  it.  We  need  not  largely  explain  what  we  mean 
by  mystery.  We  take  the  term  in  its  every-day  signifi- 
cance. It  imports  something  inexplicable — something 
which  at  present  we  do  not  fully  understand.  In  every 
affair  of  science  or  business,  there  is  not  a  more  distinct 
mark  of  a  clear  mind  or  a  great  one,  than  the  discrimi- 
nation which  the  mind  makes  between  the  matters  of  its 
knowledge  and  those  of  its  ignorance.  On  the  contrary, 
there  is  no  more  certain  sign  of  a  confused  or  contracted 
intellect,  than  for  a  man  to  imagine  he  knows  every 
thing.  That  is  the  mark  of  a  novice,  a  sciolist,  a  pre- 
tender. Invariably  you  may  take  it  as  a  certain  proof 
of  an  ignorant  mind  and  a  weak  one,  whenever  you 
come  in  contact  with  a  man  never  willing  to  say,  "  I  do 
not  know."  And  if  you  can  find  a  Christian  man  or  a 
Christian  minister  professing  to  see  all  things  clearly,  avow- 
ing that  his  mind  finds  no  difficulties  in  any  of  the  ideas 
that  occur  to  it  on  the  subject  of  religion — that  he  can 
explain  every  thing,  decrees  for  example,  just  as  easily  as 
duties ;  you  may  be  assured  on  the  spot,  both  that  he  is 
a  novice  on  the  subject,  and  that  his  mental  powers  are 
of  very  limited  comprehension.  Up  to  a  certain  and  a 
ver}^  intelligible  point,  every  man  may  know  and  ought 
to  know,  on  the  subject-matters  of  religion.  The 
point  is  this :  he  may  know  and  ought  to  know  just 
those  clusters  of  facts  which  concern  him,  and  wliich  the 


140  WISDOM   OF   GOD   IN  MYSTERY. 

Gospel  Tinfolds  to  him.  Beyond  these,  inquisitiveness 
and  curiosity  may  range,  and  imagination  conjecture, 
and  fancy  dream,  and  hope  inquire  and  long ;  but  the 
mind  can  not  have  a  single  bright  item  of  satisfying  and 
substantial  knowledge.  And  it  ought  to  be  enough  to 
warn  a  man  effectually  off  from  the  confines  of  that 
dark  region  which  lies  beyond  the  field  of  revelation, 
when  at  every  step  he  takes  in  that  region,  he  is  com- 
pelled to  feel  that  his  eyes  are  dim  and  fog-bound — 
that  he  has  no  firm  foothold — ^that  the  ground  is  un- 
certain beneath  him,  and  can  not  furnish'  to  him  the  com- 
forts of  an  unquestionable  security.  This  ought  to  con- 
fine him  effectually  and  gladly  within  the  limits  of  that 
bright  field,  bathed  in  sunshine,  over  whose  surface 
prophets  and  apostles  and  all  the  army  of  the  faithful 
have  delightfully  walked  before  him.  But,  whether  he 
will  or  not,  he  must  stay  there.  He  can  not  overstep  the 
boundaries  and  gain  the  fruits  of  knowledge  beyond. 
On  the  other  side  of  the  boundaries  lie  the  fields  of  a 
Divine  mystery ;  and  he  will  be  nothing  better  than  a 
foolish  dreamer,  if  he  does  not  let  them  alone,  till  the 
coming  of  brighter  and  eternal  day.  Let  him  attend  to 
duty,  and  leave  the  darkness.  Let  him  use  his  con- 
science, and  leave  his  conjecturing. 

The  subject  on  which  the  mystery  of  the  text  lies,  is 
that  of  the  atoning  work  of  Christ  accomplished  in  the 
crucifixion.  Now,  it  is  perfectly  clear  in  the  Gospel,  that 
Christ  was  crucified' — that  he  died  for  sinners — that  the 
punishment  due  to  us  was  laid  on  him — that  Divine 
justice  was  satisfied  by  his  death,  the  Divine  Being- 
rendered  at  least  reconcilable — and  that,  by  this  august 
and  amazing  expiation,  an  everlasting  righteousness  is 
procured,  through  which  believing  sinners  may  be  for- 


WISDOM   OF   GOD  IN   MYSTERY.  141 

given  and  entitled  to  the  favor  of  God  and  all  the  bliss 
of  a  revealed  immortalitv.  Thus  far,  there  is  no  mys- 
tery. All  is  open :  all  is  clear  and  certain  as  the  dis- 
closure of  words  can  make  it. 

But  beyond  this  lies  the  region  of  an  inaccessible  mys- 
teriousness.  It  is  overhung  with  clouds,  whose  borders 
only  are  tinged  with  the  glory  that  lies  hidden  behind 
them,  and  which  no  eye  will  see  till  the  curtain  of  eter- 
nity is  lifted. 

To  shorten  the  matter,  let  us  name  a  few  of  the  items. 

It  is  entirely  a  mystery  to  us,  how  it  could  comport 
with  the  justice  of  God  to  lay  the  punishment  of  our 
sins  on  the  head  of  an  innocent  Being,  holy,  harmless,  un- 
defiled,  and  separate  from  sinners.  He  has  done  it.  There 
is  no  mystery  about  that.  And  those  astounding  accom- 
paniments of  the  crucifixion  seem  to  mark  the  deed  with 
signals  of  amazement.  The  sun  went  out!  Solid  rocks 
were  rent  asunder !  Graves  opened !  and  buried  saints 
walked  from  the  door  of  their  sepulchers  back  again  into 
the  holy  city.  Nature,  as  she  hung  a  pall  over  the 
heavens,  seemed  to  be  astonished  at  the  transaction,  and 
well  may  we  join  in  the  solemnity  of  her  wonder!  We 
can  do  nothing  but  wonder,  and  love,  and  adore.  We 
can  not  explain.  No  man  can  tell  us,  how  justice,  puni- 
tive justice,  the  justice  of  God,  could  ordain  that  trans- 
action— a  holy  Being  standing  in  the  place  of  guilty 
ones,  and  receiving  the  strokes  of  an  offended  justice 
upon  his  devoted  head.     This  is  one  mystery. 

A  second  one  is,  how  justice  could  be  satisfied  through 
such  an  infliction.  We  can  not  tell.  We  know  no- 
thing about  it.  All  we  know  is,  that  Divine  justice 
positively  did  receive  there  the  very  last  item  of  her  de- 
mands, when  her  heavy  sword  drank  the  blood  willingly 


142  WISDOM   OF   GOD   IN   MYSTERY. 

offered  for  the  ransom  of  sinners.  But  it  was  innocent 
blood.  And  how  justice  could  take  it,  and  he  justice — 
and  how  justice  could  be  satisfied  with  it  as  justice,  is  all 
a  mystery  to  us ;  and  perhaps  it  will  be  a  mystery  for 
ever.     This  is  a  second  mystery. 

A  third  one  is,  how  Jesus  Christ  could  render  satisfac- 
tion to  Divine  justice,  while,  at  the  same  time,  he  was  the 
Being  to  whom  satisfaction  was  rendered,  and  the  very 
Being  who  rendered  it — the  Avenger  and  the  SufPerer  un- 
der vengeance.  He  teas  so.  There  is  one  God,  and  God 
was  the  satisfied  party  ;  while  we  can  not  be  ignorant  of 
that  inspired  description  of  the  Church,  the  flock  of  God 
which  he  hath  purchased  with  his  own  blood. 

It  is  a  mystery  to  us,  how  it  can  come  to  pass,  that, 
while  the  Divine  nature  is  utterly  unsusceptible  of  pain 
and  death,  nevertheless  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Jesus 
Christ  have  all  their  value  and  efficacy  from  the  Divine 
nature  of  the  Victim.  AYe  know  it  is  so  ;  but  we  know 
nothing  further.  We  know  that  the  blood  of  hulls  and 
goats  can  not  take  away  sin ;  we  know  that  when  the 
Father  bringeth  his  only  begotten  into  the  luorld,  he  saith^ 
Let  all  the  angels  of  God  worship  him. 

It  is  a  mystery  our  reason  can  not  explain,  how  there 
could  be,  in  the  "  one  person"  of  Christ  upon  the  cross, 
such  a  wonderful  union  of  grandeur  and  humiliation — 
of  glory  and  ignominy — of  complaining  and  omnipo- 
tence— in  one  word,  such  an  inexplicable  union  of  immor- 
tal Deity  and  expiring  humanity  !  How  do  these  things 
comport  with  one  another?  No  tongue  can  tell!  A 
prophet,  an  apostle  never  tried.  They  are  truths,  but 
they  are  mysteries.  They  are  the  Divine  mysteries  of 
Divine  truth. 

Our  reason  can  not  explain  the  mystery,  how  that  Son 


WISDOM  OF  GOD  IN-  MYSTERY.         143 

on  the  cross,  in  wliom  tlie  Father  luas  well  plerised^  and 
who  at  that  veiy  moment  (with  an  obedience  never 
equaled)  was  doing  the  very  will  of  the  Father  in  a 
most  amazing  transaction,  could  have  been  abandoned 
b}^  him  at  such  a  moment,  and  left  to  that  bitterest  wail- 
ing, My  God,  my  God,  why  hast  thou  for  sal :en  mef  Even 
an  earthly  kindness  will  pillow  the  bead  of  a  dying  son. 
Profligate  as  he  may  have  been,  and  now  dN'ing  for  his 
crimes,  parental  affection  will  take  him  up  in  that  hour, 
and  soothe  him  if  it  ca,n,  and  catch  his  last  breath,  and 
speak  words  of  tenderness  to  his  death-struck  bosom. 
But  Grod  did  not  treat  Jesus  Clirist  so  !  ISTot  even  a  look 
of  tenderness  did  he  bend  upon  his  dying  Son  !  Jesus 
Christ  was  no  martyr ;  and  God  forbid  that  herein  he 
should  be  an  example  for  us.  We  can  not  afford  to  die 
so.  He  died  thus  that  we  might  be  free.  He  v/ailed, 
that  we  might  exult.  He  died  in  gloom,  that  we  might 
die  in  glorj^ 

It  is  a  mystery  beyond  our  reason  to  fathom,  that  the 
love  of  God  should  ever  have  brought  Jesus  Christ  to 
the  cross.  There  is  a  hell.  It  has  victims  in  it.  It  has 
room  for  more.  Sinners  deserve  it.  Oh !  how  could 
God,  so  infinitely  great  and  exalted,  ever  love  sinners, 
beings  so  contemptible  and  mean,  well  enough  to  per- 
form in  their  behalf  all  the  wonders  of  the  crucifixion  ? 
Bend,  bend,  proud  reason,  under  the  burden  of  these 
mysteries !  Learn  the  narrow  limits  of  thine  empire ! 
Take,  as  thou  oughtest  to  take,  at  the  hand  of  God,  the 
testimony  that  he  has  given  thee,  the  ivisdom  of  God  in  a 
mystery.  Redemption  would  be  ^mreasonable,  if  there 
were  not  in  its  achievements  something  which  reason 
can  not  fathom.  What  reason  could  calculate  the  price 
of  an  immortal  soul  ?  or  gauge  the  depth  of  its  bottom- 


144        WISDOM  OF  GOD  IN  MYSTERY. 

less  abyss,  its  home,  but  for  the  high  and  mysterious 
ransom  ? 

II.  We  turn  to  the  demonstration,  that  all  this  mysteri- 
ousness  is  no  greater  than  we  ought  to  expect  on  the 
subject-matter  before  us.  We  are  going  to  show  that  all 
this  mysteriousness  perfectly  accords  with  all  the  facts 
and  all  the  other  arrangements  of  the  plan  of  redemption. 
In  this  accordance  beams  out  the  wisdom  of  God. 

Be  not  offended,  if  we  beg  your  most  definite  atten- 
tion. We  desire  you  to  fix  precisely  in  mind  the  exact 
point  with  which  we  are  dealing,  and  remark  how  it 
bears  on  the  matter  on  hand.  We  maintain,  that  re- 
demption for  sinners  by  the  death  of  the  eternal  Son  of 
God  has  something  about  it  of  amazing  mystery  ;  but 
that  the  mystery  in  this  case  is  a  manifestation  of  the 
wisdom  of  Ood ;  and,  so  far  from  constituting  any  difii- 
culty  to  a  wise  man,  this  mystery  ought  itself  to  incline 
him  to  accept  the  doctrines,  and  instantly  venture  his 
soul  upon  it  as  a  reasonable  duty.  Faith,  on  this  ac- 
count, is  the  more  reasonable;  and  that,  especially,  be- 
cause the  Deity  herein  accords  with  all  the  other  mysteries 
connected  with  this  subject.  We  select  five  items  to 
illustrate  this  principle. 

1.  Sin  was  the  great  evil  which  brought  our  Saviour 
into  the  world  and  took  him  to  the  cross.  And  the  ex- 
istence of  sin  is  just  as  mysterious  a  matter  to  us,  as  its 
expiation  on  that  blood}'-  tree.  Sin  is  an  exception  to  all 
that  could  be  expected  under  God's  attributes.  It  is  in- 
finitely hateful  to  his  infinite  holiness.  It  is  just  as  hate- 
ful to  his  infinite  goodness.  It  is  the  only  thing  wiiich 
has  ever  dishonored  him,  or  thrown  a  single  look  of  con- 
temptuous disregard  upon  his  high  and  holy  character. 


WISDOM   OF   GOD   IX   MVSTEEY.  145 

It  constitutes  the  only  tiling  wliicli  has  ever  dared  to 
impeach  his  wisdom  ;  tlie  only  thing  which,  b}^  marring 
felicity,  and  spoiling  holiness,  and  building  hell,  seems 
to  frustrate  the  great  ends  for  which  God's  high  attri- 
butes are  all  embarked.  How  could  God  permit  its  in- 
troduction ?  Where  slept  the  arm  of  his  omnipotence  in 
that  dark  hour  when  sin  first  sprang  into  existence  ? 
Where  was  goodness,  infinite  goodness,  that  it  did  not 
wake  the  energies  of  Omnipotence,  and  prevent  that 
awful  act  which  dishonors  God  and  dooms  immortal 
spirits  to  the  pains  of  hell  for  ever  ?  How  could  such  a 
God  ever  permit  such  a  monstrous  evil  ?  Awful  mystery ! 
Human  reason  would  have  supposed  it  impossible  that 
sin  should  come  into  existence,  except  by  dashing  into 
pieces  the  throne  of  Omnipotence  ! 

Yet,  here  it  is  I  Its  effects  are  visible.  Its  history  is 
written  in  tears,  in  hearts  that  bleed  and  break !  It  is 
written  in  the  birth-cries  and  death-groans  of  a  dying 
humanity,  and  spread  out  in  the  line  of  march  over 
which  every  mortal  travels  from  his  cradle  to  his  coffin ! 
Well  may  the  spectator,  in  such  a  world  as  this,  ask, 
where  is  the  goodness  of  God  ?  The  world,  indeed,  read 
by  the  light  of  Divine  Revelation,  may  give  numerous 
proofs  of  it,  but  it  is  very  noticeable  how  the  admirers 
of  nature  flul  in  one  signal  matter.  In  no  instance  that 
I  recollect,  has  any  one  of  those  impassioned  children, 
who  revel  so  delightfully  in  the  mere  fields  of  nature  and 
taste,  ever  looked  only  on  one  leaf  of  nature's  volume. 
His  ecstasy  has  been  experienced,  and  his  poetry  has 
sung,  and  his  taste  reveled,  only  when  reason  has 
reeled — when  he  has  turned  away  from  the  dark  mj-ste- 
lies  of  a  miserable  world,  atid  opened  his  eyes  only  on  the 
few  bright  spots  before  him.     He  maj^  have  been  happy 

7 


146  WISDOM   OF   GOD   IN   MYSTERY. 

in  tbe  sunsliine,  but  not  in  tlie  dark  and  stormy  day. 
He  may  have  been  satisfied  v/itli  nature's  revelations  and 
tuition  wlien  he  saw  health,  strength,  and  happiness,  but 
not  when  the  life-blood  stagnates  at  the  bidding  of  inex- 
orable death !  Nature  builds  coffins !  Nature  digs 
graves  !  Nature  takes  from  us  our  dearest  solaces — the 
sweetest  she  ever  gives ;  and,  when  we  have  deposited  them 
in  the  tomb,  she  settles  down  upon  them  the  darkness  of 
an  impenetrable  midnight  to  brood  over  them  for  ever ! 

How  can  these  things  be  ?  How  can  a  good  God  per- 
mit them?  In  vain  do  I  put  these  questions  to  all 
Nature  around  me.  She  gives  me  no  answer.  Silence, 
an  awfal  silence,  is  her  only  reply  !  Something  more, 
therefore,  is  indispensable.  And  when  God  comes  to 
give  me  that  something — when  he  tells  me  that  these 
dispensations  shall  receive  the  visitings  of  mercy — when 
he  assures  me,  that,  though  sin  exists,  and  men  die,  and 
death-struggles  and  deep  graves  are  facts,  yet  still  he  is 
good,  and  his  goodness  is  yet  going  to  be  manifested 
when  a  whole  army  of  believers  shall  fling  off  their  wind- 
ing-sheets, and  take  their  flight  from  the  grave-yard  up- 
ward to  glory;  can  I  not  afford  to  have  God  just  as 
mysterious  in  the  mode  of  recover}^,  as  he  ivas  when  sin 
began,  and  has  been  all  along  the  tearful  line  of  its  dread- 
ful history?  Is  it  not  wisdom  in  God  to  accord  with 
himself?  And  if  I  can  not  stand  before  his  attributes  of 
infinite  goodness  and  power,  and  tell  how  he  could  per- 
mit sin  and  its  evils,  and  if  all  nature  can  not  tell  me, 
do  I  not  need  something  beyond  nature,  and  something 
just  as  amazing  and  mysterious  in  curing  sin  and  its 
evils,  as  there  is  in  its  daik  existence  and  dark  miser- 
ies ?  as  there  is  in  its  dark  graves  and  deep  hell  ?  If 
such  a  mystery  as  the  existence  of  sin  could  be,  and  the 


WISDOM   OF   GOD   IN   MYSTEKY.  147 

attempt  to  atone  for  it  and  undo  its  evil  had  no  mystery 
about  it,  my  faith  never  could  fix,  and  my  heart  never 
could  rest  on  that  attempt.  I  should  be  afraid  that  there 
might  be  hidden  somewhere,  in  the  darknesses  of  sin, 
evils  and  dangers  that  the  remedy  could  not  reach.  If 
sin  is  a  mystery,  the  expiation  of  it  ought  to  be  a  mystery 
also.  And  so  it  is  :  Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness,  Ood 
manifest  in  the  flesh,  seen  of  men,  helieved  on  in  the  ivorld, 
received  up  into  glory.     Yes, 

2.  He  was  manifest  in  the  flesh,  seen  of  men,  believed 
on  in  THE  WOKLD.  And  why  did  the  Son  of  God 
select  this  world  as  the  theatre  of  his  redeeming  wonders  ? 
There  had  been  sin  in  heaven.  Spirits  as  precious  as 
ours  had  fallen.  Like  us  they  were  the  creatures  of 
God.  Like  us  they  were  immortal.  Like  us  they  were 
capable  of  never-ending  felicity  and  glory.  Capable  are 
they,  too,  of  an  awful  misery,  as  they  know  full  well, 
reserved  in  chains  under  darkness  unto  the  judgment  of  the 
great  day.  As  in  our  contemplations  we  mount  up  to  the 
city  of  God,  and  gaze  at  those  vacated  seats  whence 
angels  fell,  with  "  Lucifer,  son  of  the  morning,"  and 
then  turn  and  look  at  the  redeemed  myriads  of  happy 
spirits  taken  home  from  this  dark  and  miserable  world, 
how  can  we  solve  the  mystery,  ivhy  the  Son  of  God  took 
not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels,  hut  took  on  hira  the  seed  of 
Abraham  f  Why  did  God  pass  angels  by  when  he 
rescued  us  ?  Why  is  not  every  one  of  us  manacled  in 
chains  that  weigh  down  devils  in  hell  ?  It  is  all  a  mys- 
tery !  ISTo  answer  to  the  question  comes  to  us,  except, 
even  so^  Father^  for  so  it  seemed  good  in  thy  sight.  There 
we  must  leave  it.  And  if  it  is  all  mystery  to  us,  how 
God  came  to  select  this  apostate  world  for  the  work  of 
redeeming  mercy,  it  accords  with  God  that  that  work 


148  WISDOM  OF  GOD   IN  MYSTERY. 

itself  should  be  a  mystery  also.  The  mystery  of  the 
work  assorts  with  the  mystery  of  its  field.  The  wonders 
of  the  incarnation,  of  the  "  man  of  sorrows,"  of  his  death 
of  agony,  of  the  ef&cacy  of  his  great  atonement  for  our 
souls,  are  things  which  perfectly  correspond  with  the 
other  mystery,  why  God  dooms  sinning  angels  to  hell, 
and  invites  sinning  men  to  believe  in  the  Saviour  and  go 
to  heaven. 

And  if  any  unbeliever  among  us  will  reject  the  doc- 
trines that  Christ  bore  the  penalty  for  us,  and  made  an 
efficacious  atonement,  because  there  are  mysteries  in 
these  doctrines  ;  for  the  same  reason  he  may  just  as  well 
reject  Christianity  t^ltogether,  cut  himself  off  entirely  from 
the  Gospel,  and  afiirm  that  the  angels  sung  a  falsehood 
in  the  anthem  of  the  incarnation  !  Our  redemption  is 
all  alike :  we  speak  the  wisdom  of  Ood  in  a  mystery. 

3.  There  is  an  entire  correspondence  between  the  doc- 
trines of  Christ's  effectual  expiation  of  sin,  and  satisfac- 
tion of  justice  by  his  death,  and  all  the  other  information 
we  have  about  the  Saviour  himself.  The  incarnation  of 
Jesus  Christ  is  just  as  mysterious  to  us  as  his  atonement. 
So  is  his  person,  that  he  should  exist  "in  two  distinct 
natures  and  one  person  for  ever."  There  is  something 
inexplicable  in  this.  The  fact  is  so ;  but  how  it  can  he 
a  fact,  no  prophet  or  apostle  has  even  undertaken  to  tell. 

That  Jesus  Christ  should  be  able  to  give  strength  to 
the  poor  cripple's  bones,  and  yet  be  himself  weary  and 
way-worn,  and  sit  down  to  rest — that  he  should  feed 
thousands  of  men,  and  yet  be  a  man  of  hunger — that  he 
should  control  the  stormy  elements,  and  yet  have  not 
where  to  lay  his  head — th'rit  he  should  soothe  anguished 
hearts,  and  yet  himself  breathe  the  bitterest  prayer  that 
ever  quivered  on  anguished  lips — that  he  should  control 


i 


WISDOM  OF  GOD  IN  MYSTERY.         149 

death,  and  yet  be  its  wailing  victim — that  he  should 
please  the  Father,  and  yet  the  Father  be  pleased  to  bruise 
him  and  put  him  to  ano2)en  shame;  these  are  things  before 
which  faith  and  love  may  wonder  and  adore,  but  which 
reason  can  never  explain  !  The  great  atonement,  which 
we  remember  to-day,  corresponds,  in  mystery  and  gran- 
deur, with  all  else  that  belongs  to  its  wonderful  Author. 
4.  There  is  something  truly  amazing  in  the  mode  of 
the  redemption  of  sinners.  It  is  not  less  amazing  than 
the  fact,  whose  mysteries  we  mentioned  in  the  first  part 
of  this  sermon.  If  it  were  so,  that  justice  could  turn 
aside  from  the  guilty,  that  Jesus  Christ  were  coming  into 
this  world  to  ransom  sinners,  we  should  naturally  have 
expected  that  he  would  come  in  the  chariots  of  his 
omnipotence !  We  look  for  victories,  for  high  and  won- 
derful achievements,  in  something  which  comports  with 
their  own  magnificence.  And  if  Jesus  Christ  were  to 
come  out  from  heaven  on  a  high  embassy  of  govern- 
ment, and  visit  this  rebellious  ^orld,  and  wipe  out  its  sin, 
and  recover  back  to  a  heavenly  allegiance  its  sinning 
inhabitants,  our  reason,  all  the  reason  we  can  bring  to 
bear  upon  the  matter,  would  have  expected  him  to  come 
laden  with  the  honors  of  his  high  commission.  Not  only 
would  our  reason  look  for  his  honorable  credentials,  but 
look  to  have  his  person  held  sacred,  and  guarded  by  all 
the  thunders  of  the  throne  he  had  left  behind  him. 
Reason  would  expect  him  to  stand  here  in  the  acknowl- 
edged'majesty  of  a  high  and  mighty  deliverer.  And 
even  if  Revelation  had  taught  her,  that  his  life  must  be 
given  a  ransom  for  the  redeemed,  she  would  still  expect 
to  see  him,  in  all  the  might  and  majesty  of  his  Godhead, 
grappling  with  the  king  of  terrors !  And,  whatever  might 
befall  him,  she  would  expect  the  eternal  Father,  whose 


150         WISDOM  OF  GOD  IN  MYSTERY. 

name  and  government  lie  came  to  honor,  would  never 
forsake  him.  But,  how  different  the  facts !  He  was  a 
poor  man  I  His  mother  was  a  poor  woman  !  He  was 
born  houseless,  and  fled  defenceless  from  the  sword, 
whetted  for  his  infant  blood  !  He  stood  on  the  world  he 
came  to  rescue,  an  outcast,  and  almost  unbefriended ! 
The  foxes  have  holes,  and  the  birds  of  the  air  have  nests,  hut 
the  Son  of  man  hath  not  where  to  lay  his  head!  Approach- 
ing nearer  to  the  end  of  his  work,  instead  of  receiving 
any  signals  of  triumph,  he  was  dragged  from  court  to 
court  as  a  culprit,  insulted  bj  a  bantering  Pilate  and  a 
covetous  Herod  !  He  was  mocked  as  an  impostor — he 
was  spitted  on  as  a  man — he  was  scourged  as  a  villain  ! 
And  when  the  last  hour  was  come,  he  was  not  permitted 
that  poor  boon,  to  die  in  peace !  They  insult  his  lips 
with  vinegar  and  gall !  while  the  forsaking  of  his  Father 
forces  from  him  the  only  complaint  his  tongue  ever 
uttered !  This  is  the  mode  in  which  God  treated  his 
Son !  It  is  most  mysterious,  most  amazing  !  It  corre- 
sponds with  the  mysteries  of  its  design — the  satisfaction 
of  justice  and  the  salvation  of  the  guilty.  It  is  the  tvisdom 
of  God  in  a  mystery. 

We  can  not  stop  till  we  have  named  one  more  article. 

5.  Through  this  Christ,  some  sinners  are  brought  into 
favor  with  God.  They  are  believers.  They  are  adopted 
into  God's  family,  and  he  loves  them  with  an  unequaled 
tenderness  and  strength.  But  how  does  he  treat  them  ? 
Does  he  free  them  from  suffering,  since  Christ  suffered 
for  them  ?  Eegenerated  and  made  saints,  does  he  never 
suffer  them  to  fall  into  sin?  Must  they  weep,  since 
Christ  wept  for  them  ?  Will  they  die,  since  Christ  died 
for  them?  Along  their  track  of  life,  and  then  in  the 
hour  of  their  coming  dissolution,  will  God's  treatment  of 


WISDOM  OF  GOD  IN  MYSTERY.         151 

his  people  be  according  to  their  character,  so  tliat  the 
hohest  of  them  shall  have  fewest  griefs,  and  die  the  hap- 
piest deaths  ?  We  should  expect  it ;  but  it  is  not  so ! 
The  very  pathway  by  w^hich  believers  travel  to  the  city 
of  God  is  a  matter  corresponding  in  wonders  with  all  the 
rest  of  their  redemption  !  Sometimes  they  fall  into  sin  ! 
Sometimes,  brethren  though  they  be,  they  do  not  love 
one  another  !  Sometimes  they  will  be  forced  to  writhe 
in  anguish  imder  the  thought  that  their  God  has  taken 
away  from  them  the  mercy  w' hich  they  could  least  of  all 
spare !  Some  of  them  will  bur}^  their  children,  and  some 
of  them  will  die,  leaving  them  behind  in  such  circum- 
stances that  they  could  die  happier  if  their  children  had 
died  before  them  ! — they  must  leave  them,  unbefriended, 
to  a  tempting,  and  cold,  and  comfortless  w^orld ! 

We  ask  you,  if  your  very  way  into  heaven,  along  the 
path  of  tem.ptation  and  tears,  and  winding  down  rapidly 
into  the  darkness  of  the  tomb,  does  not  correspond  in 
mysteriousness  with  that  great  work  which  shall  beam 
brightness  on  that  tomb  in  the  day  of  a  coming  resurrec- 
tion? Go  on  joyfully  in  that  path.  Lie  down  quietly 
in  that  tomb.  The  darkness  of  your  allotments  is  no 
evidence  against  your  adoption  into  the  family  of  God. 
If  3'ou  are  a  believer,  your  life,  like  your  adorable 
Redeemer,  will  be  the  tuisdom  of  God  in  a  mystery. 

This  afternoon,  some  of  you,  my  dear  hearers,  are 
going  to  pour  dishonor  on  this  wisdom  of  God !  You 
will  not  be  at  the  Lord's  table!  Most  solemnly  and 
most  affectionately,  I  ask  you,  ivliyf  What  do  you 
wait  for,  before  you  will  believe  in  Christ — before  yon 
will  consent  to  trust  3'our  soul  to  his  blood  ?  What  do 
3^ou  want  the  Almighty  God  to  do  for  you,  or  to  teach 
you   more?     He   has   done,   and   has  tauglit,   and   has 


152  WISDOM   OF   GOD   IX   MYSTERY. 

promised,  and  lias  called  and  invited,  precisely  as  your 
situation,  your  sins,  and  }- our  souls  need !  If  any  thing 
is  reasonable  and  trustwortliy,  it  is  this  blood-bought 
redemption.  If  you  will  not  take  up  with  this,  a  wise, 
unique,  appropriate,  consistent  system — a  system  that 
reaches  aid  this  moment  to  your  guilty  helplessness,  and 
stretches  on  to  your  death-bed  and  eternity — it  becomes 
a  serious  question  to  jou  how  you  will  answer  it  at  the 
bar  of  God.  If  you  will  not  believe  God,  what  will  you 
believe  ?  If  you  will  not  trust  God,  what  are  you  going 
to  trust  ?  If  you  recoil  from  the  mystery  of  the  atone- 
ment, and  fall  back  on  Nature,  you  can  find  neither 
light  nor  hope  there !  Wherever  the  Bible  is  mystery, 
Nature  is  more  so.  If  you  will  reject  a  redemption  which 
accords  with  all  w^e  can  know  of  God,  and  which  corre- 
sponds to  your  sins,  your  consciousness  of  want,  and 
your  dying  condition,  then  you  must  perish!  You 
must  perish !  but  when  you  perish,  the  justice  and 
mercy  of  God  will  be  faultless!  Oh!  that  you  were 
wise !  You  would  then  take  God  at  his  word.  You 
would  renounce  sin  and  the  w^orld.  You  would  be  a 
miracle  of  grace,  and  an  heir  of  bright  and  happy 
immortality. 

My  brethren,  you  are  going  to  commemorate,  this 
afternoon,  the  greatest  wonder  in  the  universe.  Your 
exercises  of  adoring  love  and  trust  ought  to  have  some 
correspondence  toHhe  love  that  has  saved  you.  At  the 
table  of  the  Lord  you  will  remember  the  adorable  love 
which  made  Jesus  Christ  a  victim,  that  you  might  be 
delivered  from  the  depths  of  ignominy,  and  pain,  and 
shame  everlasting.  Aim  to  have  your  faith,  3' our  filial 
confidence,  your  spirit  of  adoption,  as  freely  draw  you 
to  take  Clirist  as  he  has  given  himself  to  ransom  you 


WISDOM  OF  GOD   IN  MYSTEPwY.  153 

from  going  down  to  the  pit.  Ye  are  tlie  children  of 
God.  Come  and  take,  at  your  Father's  table,  the  chil- 
dren's portion.  Come  with  a  child's  confidence,  a  child's 
heart.  Come  to  assure  your  hearts.  As  you  lift  that 
cup  to  your  lips,  say  freely,  He  that  spared  not  Ms  own 
Son,  hut  freely  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not 
icith  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  f  And  then  drink  of  it 
in  filial  confidence,  as  a  child  of  God.  Let  no  fear  dis- 
quiet you.  If  he  loved  you  to  the  dearth  while  you  were 
yet  enemies,  much  more  will  he  save  you  as  friends. 
He  will  perfect  all  his  mysterious  redemption.  He  will 
attend  you  in  your  sometimes  dark  pathway,  as  you 
tread  onwards  toward  the  tomb.  He  will  not  leave  you 
there.  You  have  contemplated  him  mysteriously  dying 
in  ignominy  upon  the  cross — you  shall  yet  see  him  com- 
ing in  the  clouds -of  heaven  to  judge  the  quick  and  the 
dead!  As  your  soul  has  sorrowed  for  sin,  and  your 
heart  sunk  within  you,  you  have  heard  him  wonderfully 
saying.  Be  of  good  cheer,  thy  sins  are  forgiven  thee.  You 
shall  yet  hear  from  his  lips  that  crowning  wonder,  Come^ 
ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the  kingdom  prepared  for 
you  before  the  foundation  of  the  tvorld.  Christ  on  the  cross, 
and  a  ransomed  sinner  in  heaven,  are  the  two  greatest 
wonders  in  the  universe — they  both  exhibit  the  luisdom 
of  God  in  a  mystery, 

7* 


Blessed  be  tlie  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  hath  blessed 
us  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ,  according 
as  he  hath  chosen  us  in  him,  before  the  foundation  of  the  world,  that 
should  we  be  holy  and  without  blame  before  him  in  love. — Ephesians, 
i.  3,  4. 

TpOUR  ideas  are  peculiarly  prominent  in  these  words : 
-^  The  first  is,  the  ascription  of  praise  and  blessing  to 
God,  the  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  Apostle, 
just  commencing  his  Epistle  to  the  Ephesian  converts, 
has  barely  announced  to  them  who  it  is  that  addresses 
them,  and  wished  them  grace,  mercy  and  peace,  before 
he  breaks  out  into  a  kind  of  rapturous  exclamation, 
Blessed  he  the  Ood  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ! 
He  could  not  proceed  (it  would  seem)  to  impart  to  them 
those  counsels  and  consolations  of  which  his  heart  was 
so  full,  before  he  had  lifted  up  his  heart  in  holy  and 
devout  thanksgiving  and  praise  to  God.  He  loved  the 
Ephesian  converts.  He  rejoiced  in  all  their  spiritual 
good.  He  delighted  to  unfold  to  them  the  riches  of  the 
Eedeemer's  grace,  and  furnish  them  (through  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  Holy  Spirit)  with  such  principles,  and  prom- 
ises, and  timely  admonitions  and  warnings  as  should  aid 
their  advancement  in  the  Divine  life.  But  all  that  he 
could  do,  or  they  anticipate,  flowed  from  the  wonders  of 
grace.     There  was  nothing  in  all  his  enrapturing  theme, 


ELECTION.  165 

Christ,  and  pardon,  and  lieaven,  wliicli  would  let  liim, 
for  a  moment,  forget  that  praise  and  blessing  for  it  all 
was  due  to  God.  He  seems  to  have  felt  that  he  could 
not  ent-er  into  the  consideration  of  Christian  subjects — 
could  not  unfold  or  enjoy  the  rich  provisions  of  Chris- 
tian grace — without  remembering  at  every  step  that  it 
all  came  from  the  bounty  of  Heaven — the  wonderful 
overflowings  of  the  grace  of  God!  The  very  first 
thought  of  the  Gos|)el  brought  the  Apostle  directly  to 
the  grand,  and  the  glorious  and  the  delightful  sover- 
eignty of  God:  Blessed  he  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ     Then  follows  the  reason  for  this : 

His  second  idea  is  that  of  the  spiritual  blessings  which 
God  has  bestowed ;  Who  hath  blessed  us  with  all  spiritual 
blessings  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ.  The  word  places  is 
not  found  in  the  original.  Perhaps  some  other  word 
would  be  as  appropriate:  Blessed  us  luith  all  sjnritual 
blessings  in  heavenly  THINGS ;  that  is,  in  grace,  mercy  and 
peace,  pardon,  redemption,  and  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit, 
may,  perhaps,  be  the  meaning  of  the  passage.  But  I  am 
of  the  opinion  that  heavenly  places  is  a  phrase  that  more 
perfectly  presents  to  us  the  idea  which  was  in  the  Apos- 
tle's mind.  The  7node  in  which  his  mind  revolved  the 
matters  of  the  Gospel  seems  to  me  to  have  been  this : 
he  considered  the  whole  as  one  connected,  consistent, 
certain  system,  tuell  ordered  in  all  things,  and  sure,  from 
the  beginning  to  the  end,  established  in  the  covenant, 
and  resting  on  the  faithfulness  of  God.  He  considers 
heaven,  therefore,  as  already  bestowed  upon  believers. 
It  is  theirs  by  promise,  and  theirs  by  the  possession  of 
something  of  that  holiness  which  qualifies  for  it.  And 
when  ho  says,  blessed  us  with  all  spiritual  blessings  in 
heavenly  places,    he   means   that   all   the  privileges  and 


156  ELECTION. 

places  of  holiness  are  already  bestowed  upon  believers — 
they  are  given  in  the  covenant — they  are  promised,  and 
believers  have  an  invested  right  in  them — they  are 
theirs.  The  same  idea  is  found  in  the  sixth  verse  of  the 
second  chapter  of  this  Epistle :  God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy, 
....  hath  raised  us  up  together,  and  made  us  sit  together 
in  heavenly  PLACES  in  Christ  Jesus.  Where  there  is  grace, 
there  is  something  of  heaven.  Spiritual  blessings  are 
eternal  blessings.     Divine  life  is  immortal  life. 

But  we  need  remark,  at  present,  only  the  spiritual 
bestowments.  It  was  on  account  of  them  that  the  Apos- 
tle makes  such  an  ascription  of  blessing  and  praise  to 
God. 

The  third  idea  is  that  of  the  rule  ot  arrangement  by 
which  God  hath  blessed  us  ivith  all  spiritual  hlessings.  It 
is  the  rule  of  Divine,  eternal  election — the  sovereign 
choice  of  God ;  Messed  us  .  .  .  in  Christ  ACCORDING-  as  he 
hath  CHOSEN  us  in  him  BEFORE  the  foundation  of  the 
world. 

The  fourth  prominent  idea  is  the  ohject  of  the  Divine 
choice,  or  the  explanation  of  what  it  is  to  which  God 
hath  chosen  us  in  Christ  before  the  foundation  of  the  world. 
He  chose  us  that  lue  should  be  holy  and  without  blame  before 
him  in  love.  He  elected  believers  that  they  should  be 
holy — not  because  they  were  going  to  be  holy  and  he 
foresaw  it,  but  to  cause  them  to  be  holy.  It  was  his 
object  in  election  to  render  them  holy  and  blameless  before 
him  in  love — a  company  of  holy  men  and  holy  women, 
maintaining  a  careful  and  blameless  walk,  and  growing 
up  in  holiness  and  love,  till  they  should  be  ripe  for  a 
translation  to  heaven. 

The  amount,  therefore,  of  what  is  prominent  in  these 
words,  may  be  briefly  expressed  in  this  way : 


ELECTION.  157 

1.  The  Apostle  blesses  God  (when  he  thinks  of  the 
Gospel). 

2.  He  does  it  on  account  of  bestowed  spiritual  bless- 
ings. 

3.  He  tells  how  they  came  to  be  bestowed — we  were 
cliosen. 

4.  He  tells  the  design  of  God's  choice — that  we  should 
he  holy. 

The  DOCTRINE,  therefore,  to  which  we  invite  your 
attention  in  this  discourse  is,  that 

The  election  of  God  effectually  secures  holiness  in  the 
elect,  and  thus,  w^e  may  be  assured,  prepares  them  for 
heaven. 

In  substantiating  this  doctrine,  our  appeal  is, 

I.  To  the  Law  and  to  the  testimony.  The  sacred  Scrip- 
tures, in  places  too  numerous  to  mention,  teach  us  that 
God  hath  chosen  saints,  elected  them  in  Christ  Jesus, 
before  the  foundation  of  the  world.  Some  of  these  passages 
we  are  going  to  recite.  And  you  will  notice,  while  you 
listen  to  them,  how  commonly  election  and  sanctification 
are  coupled  together  not  only,  but  more  particularly, 
how  election  is  mentioned  as  the  cause  of  sanctification  ; 
how  the  believer's  holiness,  all  his  holiness,  originates  in 
the  election  of  God. 

Our  text  is  of  this  nature:  God  hath  blessed  us  ivith 
spiritual  blessings ;  why  ?  according  as  lie  hath  chosen  us. 
It  was  his  choice,  his  election,  which  secured  spiritual 
blessings.  It  was  not  because  we  ivere  spiritually  blessed, 
or  because  he  foresaw  we  should  be,  that  he  chose  us ; 
but  we  are  spiritually  blessed  according  as  he  hath  chosen  us. 
He  hath  blessed  us  w^ith  spiritual  blessings  according  to 
election,  and  not  elected  us  according  to  some  foreseen 


158  ELECTION. 

spiritual  cliaracter  of  good  in  us.  This  is  one  demonstra- 
tion from  tlie  text  itself. 

There  is  another.  He  hath  chosen  us  in  Christ  before  the 
foundation  of  the  luorld,  that  we  SHOULD  he  holy.  He  chose 
"US  to  holiness,  therefore,  if  we  are  holy.  God  hath 
elected  believers,  that  they  should  be  holy,  not  because 
he  saw  they  were  going  to  be  holy.  Their  holiness  was 
embraced  among  the  purposes  of  election.  When  God 
elected  them,  he  elected  them  to  be  holy.  It  was  his 
object  in  election,  that  they  should  he  holy,  and  ivithout 
hlame  before  hw%  in  love.  And  either  HE  (all  holy,  and  om- 
nipotent, and  changeless  as  he  is)  must  fail  to  accomplish 
the  purposes  of  his  choice,  or  the  elect  will  assuredly 
receive,  at  his  hands,  all  spiritual  blessings^  and  finally  be 
made  holy  and  ivithout  hlame  before  him.  He  chose  them 
for  this  ;  and  his  choice  effectually  secures  it. 

Eom.  8 :  29.  Whom  he  did  forehnoio,  he  also  did  jpre- 
destinate  to  be  conformed  to  the  image  of  his  Son.  Conform- 
ity to  the  image  of  his  Son  consists  in  sanctification ;  and 
this  sanctification,  the  Divine  writer  tells  us,  springs  from 
predestination.     God  predestinated  this  conformity. 

Kom.  8 :  30.  Whom  he  did  predestinate  them  he  also 
called.  This  calling  is  to  holiness,  and  it  comes  from 
predestination.  '^Efiectual  calling"  is  one  of  the  results 
of  election. 

2  Thess.  2  :  13.  We  are  hound  to  give  thanks  always  to 
God  for  you^  brethren,  beloved  of  the  Lord,  because  Ood  hath 
from  the  hegi7ining  chosen  you  to  salvation,  through  sanctifi- 
cation of  the  Sjjirit  and  belief  of  the  truth.  Salvation  is 
included  in  election ;  but  not  merely  freedom  from 
punishment,  and  admission  into  the  presence  of  God. 
There  is  something  more.  We  h.ave  a  very  imperfect 
idea  of  salvation  not  only,  but  we  have  a  very  erroueous 


ELECTION.  159 

one,  when  we  conceive  of  it  merely  as  pardon  and  a 
residence  among  the  saints  before  the  throne.  Salva- 
tion includes  holiness  of  nature.  The  sanctified  alone 
can  be  saved,  let  pardon  and  the  mansions  of  heaven 
be  as  they  may.  The  sanctified  alone  are  qualified  to 
get  good — ta  receive  blessing,  and  glory,  and  joy  from 
standing  in  the  presence  of  God.  And  God  hath.,  from 
the  beginning,  chosen  to  salvation  THROUGH  sanctificatlon 
of  the  Spirit.  The  choice,  the  election  of  God,  effect- 
ually secures  sanctificatlon  of  the  Spirit. 

1  Thess.  5 :  9.  Oocl  hath  not  appointed  us  to  wrath, 
hut  to  obtain  salvation.  Believers  are  saved  by  the 
appointment  of  God.  In  holy,  sovereign  wisdom  he  has 
ordained  the  end  from  the  beginning ;  and  the  means 
for  its  accomplishment  will  not  be  unappropriate  to  the 
objects  designed. 

Eph.  2  :  10.  We  are  his  workmanship,  created  in  Christ 
Jesus  unto  good  works,  which  God  hath  before  ordained  that 
we  should  walk  in  them.  God  hath  foreordained  the  good 
works  of  his  people,  as  the  fruits  of  holiness,  and  not 
merely  their  new  creation  by  the  Holy  Spirit. 

1  Pet.  1  :  2.  Elect  according  to  the  foreknowledge  of 
God  the  Father,  through  sanctification  of  the  Spirit  unto 
obedience.  A  sanctified  mind  leading  to  obedience  is, 
therefore,  the  result  of  election. 

But  we  need  not  multiply  quotations,  ^ou  aie  famil- 
iar with  passages  like  these.  Such  ideas  are  scattered 
every  where  throughout  the  New  Testament,  and  blind- 
ness alone  can  miss  them. 

The  character  of  believers,  their  disposition,  their  quali- 
fication for  the  service  and  enjoyment  of  God,  their 
obedience,  their  holiness — some  one  of  these  things  is 


160  ELECTION. 

usually  mentioned  in  the  Scriptures  in  connection  witli 
their  election,  and  as  the  result  of  it.  Indeed,  wherever 
the  method  in  which  election  operates  is  brought  to  mind 
that  method  is  sanctification.  Believers  are  elected  to 
salvation,  it  is  true ;  God  is  said  to  have  chosen  them  to 
salvation.  But  when  the  medium  of  salvation  is  men- 
tioned, the  nature  of  it,  the  means  of  it  in  the  creature  ; 
then  holiness,  sanctification,  the  qualities  of  the  believer 
are  suggested  to  us.  Men  are  sometimes  fond  of  separa- 
ting these  things.  God  put  them  together.  Men,  who 
would  fondly  indulge  the  hope  of  salvation  while 
neglecting  the  cultivation  of  a  holy  temper  of  mind  and 
holy  habits  of  living,  often  connect  the  election  of  God 
with  the  eternal  felicity  of  the  elect,  but  separate  the 
idea  of  that  felicity  from  the  idea  of  the  believer's 
separation  from  sin.  Men,  too,  whose  wicked  hearts  are 
opposed  to  the  sovereignty  of  God,  who  hate  the  doc- 
trine of  election  and  desire  to  make  it  appear  odious  or 
absurd,  often  take  the  same  course,  and  represent  the 
doctrine  of  election  as  teaching  that  eternal  life  is  secure 
to  the  elect,  let  their  course  and  their  character  be  what 
they  will.  But  this  is  not  the  election  of  the  Scriptures. 
They  make  no  mention  of  such  an  election.  They 
mention  holiness  as  the  result  of  election,  and  heaven  as 
the  consequence  and  reward  of  holiness.  This  is  their 
universal  sense,  and  in  numerous  passages  it  is  fully  and 
clearly  expressed. 

II.  We  make  an  appeal  to  the  nature  of  the  case,  to 
show  that  election  secures  holiness  in  the  elect. 

The  election  of  believers  is  no  singular  and  isolated 
thing  in  the  economy  of  God.  It  is  only  one  item  of  a 
great  and  universal  system — the  system  of  predestina- 


ELECTION.  161 

tion.  ''  God,  for  liis  own  glory,  hath  foreordained  what- 
soever comes  to  pass :" — not  some  things,  but  all  things. 
His  predestination  is  just  as  extensive  as  his  providence. 
Predestination  is  God's  eternal  purpose  to  rule  his  uni- 
verse just  as  he  does  rule  it.  (And  if  men  are  recon- 
ciled to  the  manner  in  which  he  does  rule  it,  it  seems  to 
me  they  need  have  no  quarrel  with  his  determining  to 
rule  it  so.)  Election,  then,  is  embraced  in  predestination. 
It  is  only  one  item  of  the  eternal  purposes,  the  decrees 
of  God.  Now,  the  purposes  of  God  are  wise.  They  are 
reasonable,  and  consistent  with  the  proprieties  of  things ; 
for  God  is  not  the  author  of  confusion  and  absurdity. 
And,  therefore,  when  he  determined  any  end  to  be  ac- 
complished, he  must  have  determined  the  means  for  its 
accomplishment :  when  he  chose  his  people  unto  salva- 
tion, he  must  have  chosen  them  unto  holiness.  A  re- 
newed soul,  a  soul  conformed  to  the  image  of  God,  a 
soul  disposed  to  holiness  and  finding  felicity  in  it,  is  in- 
dispensable to  salvation.  Without  it,  salvation  is  an 
absurdity,  an  impossibility.  When  God  elected  saints, 
therefore,  he  elected  their  sanctification.  When  he  chose 
them  in  Christ,  he  chose  them  that  they  should  he  holy. 
His  election  effectually  secures  their  sanctification,  be- 
cause, as  the  universal  Lord,  he  determined  how  to  rule 
all  things ;  determined  all  means  for  all  ends ;  deter- 
mined to  maintain  one  reasonable,  connected,  consistent 
system,  wise  in  its  purposes  and  wise  in  the  method  of 
their  accomplishment.  The  in:finite  wisdom  of  God 
would  be  as  much  dishonored  as  his  rectitude,  by  sup- 
posing that  he  resolved  to  save  some  of  our  fallen  race, 
without  any  regard  to  the  means  of  their  salvation,  or 
the  qualities  of  those  who  should  be  admitted  into 
heaven,  where  there  is  fullness  of  joy.     The  nature  of  the 


162  ELECTION. 

case,  therefore,  demonstrates  the  position,  that  election 
secures  holiness  in  the  elect,  because. 

First,  election  is  a  part  of  God's  universal  predestina- 
tion ; 

Second,  holiness  is  the  means  of  which  salvation  is  the 
end;  and 

Third,  holiness  is  a  quality  aside  from  which  no  elec- 
tion could  secure  to  the  soul  the  felicities  of  heaven. 

III.  Let  us  now  advert  to  the  tendencies  of  this  doc- 
trine on  the  minds  of  men. 

Before  entering  into  the  particulars  of  this  article,  we 
wish  it  to  be  noticed  in  what  manner  it  applies  to  our 
subject.  Our  doctrine  is,  that  election  secures  holiness 
in  the  elect ;  (ye  have  not  chosen  me^  hut  I  have  chosen 
you;)  and,  consequently,  we  should  expect  that  the 
knowledge  and  belief  of  this  doctrine  would  have  a  sanc- 
tifying tendency :  we  should  expect  that  its  effect  upon 
the  minds  of  men,  (as  a  means,)  would  be  a  happy  effect. 
Or,  to  express  the  idea  in  another  form,  when  we  show 
that  the  doctrine  of  election  preached  to  the  people 
tends  to  make  them  hol}^,  then  we  have  presented  a  very 
strong  kind  of  proof  that  election  secures  their  holiness. 
We  thus  show  the  practical  influences  of  the  doctrine,  its 
operations  and  tendencies.  "We  do  not  attempt,  indeed, 
to  solve  its  difficulties.  We  pass  by  what  is  unknown 
and  mysterious,  to  examine  the  plain  facts  which  every 
body  can  see.  We  do  not  attempt  to  lift  the  veil  which 
hides  the  mysterious  agencies  of  the  Divine  hand ;  but 
we  look  on  this  side  the  veil,  taking  the  place  of  an  open 
spectator,  beholding  the  effect  wrought  on  human  sensi- 
bilities and  human  character  by  the  great  doctrine  we 
preach.     That  effect  is  holiness.     The  tendency  of  the 


ELECTION.  163 

doctrine  of  eternal  election  is  to  lead  men  to  the  attain- 
ment of  all  spiritual  blessings.  Listen  to  five  items  of 
illustration. 

1.  The  first  is  taken   from  the   history  of  holiness 
among  men. 

We  wish,  my  hearers,  that  you  were  better  acquainted 
with  the  history  of  the  Church.  We  invite  you  to  that 
branch  of  study.  And  we  do  not  hesitate  to  afl&rm,  that 
you  will  find  the  most  holy,  and  firm,  and  devoted  peo- 
ple, to  have  been  those  whose  hearts  embraced  the  doc- 
trine of  the  sovereign  election  of  God.  This  was  one  of 
those  great  principles  which  laid  the  foundation  of  that 
heroic  and  devoted  piety,  which  achieved  the  wonders 
of  the  Eeformation.  Those  great  minds,  whose  ener- 
gies, tempered  by  piety  and  guided  by  God,  possessed 
power  enough  in  holy  science  to  fling  abroad  a  light 
that  chased  darkness  from  nation  after  nation,  were 
trained  and  tutored  under  the  doctrine  we  preach. 
Those  great  hearts,  devoted  entirely  to  the  truth,  un- 
daunted by  terror  and  not  discouraged  by  difficulty,  and 
ready,  if  need  be,  to  sprinkle  with  their  life's-blood  the 
pathway  of  discipleship,  beat  quick,  and  beat  strong, 
and  beat  true  to  the  doctrine  we  preach.  This  doctrine 
has  always  been  dear  to  the  most  signal  and  devoted 
piety.  Those  churches  have  always  been  the  most  firm 
which  have  embraced  it.  The  whole  history  of  holiness 
among  men  will  demonstrate  to  you  (if  you  will  exam- 
ine) that  this  and  kindred  doctrines  have  always  been 
among  those  fundamental  jirinciples,  which  have  found- 
ed, and  fostered,  and  guided  the  most  pure  and  perfect 
holiness  ever  witnessed  among  human  kind.  Look 
over  Christendom.  Select  those  times,  or  those  countries, 
wherein  holiness,  true  holiness  has  been  most  manifest 


164  ELECTION. 

and  pure,  and  you  have  selected  the  very  times  and 
places  wherein  this  doctrine  of  election  was  most 
preached  and  most  believed.  Again,  look  over  all 
Christendom.  Select  those  times  or  places  wherein  the 
doctrine  of  election  has  been  opposed,  disbelieved,  and 
stricken  out  of  men's  preaching  and  the  creeds  of  the 
churches,  and  you  have  selected  the  very  times  and 
places  wherein  Christianity  has  been  shorn  of  half  her 
power !  How  England  and  Scotland  contrast  with  one 
another  at  the  present  moment.  In  the  established 
Church  of  England,  it  is  well  known  that  this  doctrine 
and  those  kindred  to  it  have  been  very  commonly  reject- 
■ed  for  a  series  of  years ;  and  a  system  of  Arminianism 
has  usurped  most  of  the  pulpits  of  the  establishment ! 
And  what  is  the  result  ?  At  this  moment,  not  a  few  of 
her  ministers  are  more  Popish  than  Protestant !  In 
Scotland,  in  the  established  Church,  the  doctrine  of  elec- 
tion and  its  kindred  truths  were  never  rejected.  And 
what  do  you  see  there?  A  purer  virtue  than  the  English 
Church  ever  had  ;  hundreds  of  ministers  and  thousands 
of  private  Christians  giving  up  all  their  churches,  and 
all  their  church  property  at  once,  sooner  than  allow  a 
corrupt  civil  government  an  opportunity  to  impose  a 
corrupt  ministry  upon  them.  You  will  never  see  such  a 
spirit  of  sacrificing  and  suffering  for  Christ  and  his  truth, 
where  such  doctrines  as  we  preach  have  been  discarded. 
The  Puritans,  the  Covenanters  of  Scotland,  and  the  In- 
dependents of  Kew  England,  have  been  trained,  from 
the  cradle,  under  the  doctrine  of  election  and  its  kindred 
truths ;  and  among  these  men  there  has  appeared,  from 
age  to  age,  the  most  active  virtue,  the  purest  holiness 
the  world  has  ever  seen.  History  proves  that  the  doc- 
trine we  preach  tends  to  holiness. 


ELECTION.  165 

And  so  plain  and  indisputable  is  this,  that  an  able 
writer  of  the  Edinburgh  Review,  who  seems  to  have  no 
friendship  for  this  doctrine,  was  compelled,  by  the  force 
of  a  truth  so  plain  in  history,  to  make  this  remark : 
"  Predestination,  (says  he,)  or  doctrines  much  inclining 
towards  it,  have,  on  the  whole,  prevailed  in  the  Christian 
churches  of  the  West,  since  the  days  of  Augustine  and 
Aquinas.  "Who  were  the  most  formidable  opponents  of 
these  doctrines  in  the  Church  of  Rome  ?  The  Jesuits — 
the  contrivers  of  courtly  casuistry  and  the  founders  of 
lax  moralit}^  Who,  in  the  same  church,  inclined  to  the 
stern  theology  of  Augustine  ?  The  Jansenists — the 
teachers  and  the  models  of  austere  morals.  What  are 
we  to  think  of  the  morality  of  Calvinistic  nations,  espe- 
cially of  the  most  numerous  classes  of  them,  who  seem, 
bej^ond  all  other  men,  to  be  most  zealously  attached  to 
religion,  and  most  deeply  penetrated  Avith  its  spirit  ? 
Here,  if  any  where,  we  have  a  decisive  test  of  the  moral 
influence  of  a  belief  in  necessarian  opinions.  In  Prot- 
estant Switzerland,  in  Holland,  in  Scotland,  among  the 
English  Non-conformists,  and  the  Protestants  of  the 
North  of  Ireland,  in  the  New  England  States — Calvinism 
was  long  the  prevalent  faith,  and  is  probably  still  the 
faith  of  a  considerable  majority.  Their  moral  character 
was,  at  least,  completed,  and  their  collective  character 
formed,  during  the  prevalence  of  Calvinistic  opinions. 
Yet,  where  are  communities  to  be  found  of  a  more  pure 
and  active  virtue  ?"^  Thus  spake  a  mere  political,  liter- 
ary writer.  He  knew  from  history,  that  such  doctrines 
as  we  preach  universally  give  rise  to  the  most  active 
virtue.     They  tend  to  holiness. 

*  Edinburgh  Ecvlew  for  Oct.  1821. 


166  ELECTION. 

2.  This  doctrine  tends  to  holiness,  because  its  proper 
and  common  effect  is  to  make  men  humble. 

There  are  few  obstacles  to  holiness  more  powerful  than 
human  pride.  Pride  of  heart  is  opposed  to  gospel  grace. 
God  often  complains  of  it  in  men,  and  often  enjoins  the 
opposite  graces  of  meekness  and  humility.  The  doctrine 
of  election  has  a  tendency  to  diminish  it,  and  finally 
eradicate  it  from  the  hearts  of  his  people.  This  doctrine 
admonishes  them  of  their  obstinate  and  wicked  state  by 
nature.  It  shows  them  that  they  were  so  deep  in  sin, 
and  so  attached  to  it,  that  they  had  not  delivered  them- 
selves ;  that  they  are  indebted  to  the  electing  love  of 
God,  (choosing  them  for  himself  in  Christ  Jesus,)  for  their 
present  state  and  joy  as  Christians,  and  for  all  they  hope 
ever  to  attain.  They  have  not  become  Christians  be- 
cause they  were  any  better  than  other  people.  They  are 
Christians  because  they  were  chosen  in  Christ  before  the 
foundation  of  the  world  that  they  should  he  holy  ;  and  in  his 
own  time,  and  by  his  own  Spirit,  it  pleased  God  to  make 
them  willing  in  the  day  of  his  power  (Ps.  ex.  3),  and  bring 
them  to  Christ.  It  has  a  very  humbling  effect  upon  the 
Christian's  heart  to  reflect,  that  he  must  for  ever  owe  it 
to  the  choice  of  God,  and  not  to  himself,  that  he  has 
been  saved.  To  account  for  his  repentance,  for  his  faith, 
for  his  love  of  holiness,  for  his  prospect  of  heaven,  he 
must  go  away  from  himself,  from  his  merits,  and  his 
powers  :  he  must  go  to  the  unmerited  grace  of  God :  he 
must  go  back  to  the  eternal  election  which  God  made  of 
him,  a  poor  helpless  sinner,  before  the  world  was.  Thus 
pride  is  humbled ;  not  unto  us^  not  unto  us,  hut  to  thy  name 
give  glory. — (Ps.  cxy.  1.)  And  thus  the  believer,  under 
view  of  this  doctrine,  becomes  more  and  more  meek  and 
lowly  of  heart.     He  is  subdued.     The  asperities  of  his 


ELECTION".  167 

character  are  softened.  His  loftiness  is  laid  low  ;  and  he 
attains  more  and  more  of  the  child-like,  meek,  single- 
hearted,  and  holy  temper  of  the  man  of  God.  Election 
strikes  at  the  root  of  pride.  It  was  not  any  thing  in  man 
— it  was  the  sovereign  election  of  God  which  first  opened 
the  least  prospect  that  a  sinner  could  be  saved. 

3.  This  doctrine  tends  to  holiness,  because  it  is  emi- 
nently calculated  to  awaken  feelings  of  gratitude  towards 
God.  What  were  we  that  we  should  have  any  expecta- 
tions of  good?  What  were  we  that  God  should  look  on 
us,  and  pity  us,  and  love  us,  and  choose  us  in  Christ  to 
be  his  ?  The  believer  is  thankful,  when  he  remembers 
the  electing  goodness  of  God.  God  did  not  pass  him  by, 
and  leave  him,  as  justly  he  might,  to  the  darkness  of  his 
sinful  condition,  and  finally  to  the  sadness  and  despair 
of  eternal  death  ! 

"  He  saw  him  ruined  by  the  fall, 
But  loved  him  notwithstanding  all ; 
He  saved  him  from  his  lost  estate — 
His  loving-kindness,  oh  !  how  great." 

4.  This  doctrine  tends  to  holiness,  because  it  tends  to 
show  iho,  evil  nature  of  sin.  We  can  not  fully  unfold 
this  idea ;  we  hope,  however,  to  be  understood.  Sin  is 
a  thing  so  improper  for  the  practice  of  moral  beings,  such 
a  contradiction  to  the  demands  of  their  nature,  such  an 
exception  among  the  things  for  which  moral  nature  has 
an}^  provision  for  resistance,  that  when  it  has  once  com- 
menced, it  requires  the  counsel  and  control  of  God  to 
arrest  its  ravages.  Were  it  not  for  this  counsel,  it  would 
have  gone  on  in  the  heart  of  every  sinner  for  ever.  His 
own  counsel  or  power  never  would  have  arrested  it.  It 
is  that  one  mighty  evil,  which  required  the  action  of  the 
Eternal  Mind ;  and  is  never  arrested  from  working  out 


"V 


168  ELECTION. 


tlie  damnation  of  the  soul,  but  by  tlie  election  of  God. 
To  recover  from  it,  to  save  the  sinner,  occupied  the 
thoughts,  and  fixed  the  choice  of  God,  before  the  founda- 
tion of  the  world.  God  elected,  and  Christ  covenanted 
to  die,  and  the  voice  of  mercy  burst  from  the  skies,  De- 
liver  him  from  going  down  to  the  pit ;  I  have  found  a  ran- 
som. (Job,  xxxiii.  24.)  This  doctrine  wonderfully  dis- 
closes the  strange  nature  of  sin,  and  thus  leads  the  be- 
liever to  shudder  at  its  perpetration. 

5.  This  doctrine  tends  to  produce  holiness,  because  it 
increases  veneration  and  reverence  for  the  Deity.  The 
fact  is  not  to  be  denied,  that  those  v/ho  reject  this  doc- 
trine and  its  kindred  truths,  do  manifest  a  most  sad  want 
of  solemn  veneration  and  awe  for  the  names,  and  the 
word,  and  the  attributes  of  God.  They  have  a  lightness 
of  manner,  and  an  unbecoming  familiarity  when  speak- 
ing of  the  Deity,  and  even  when  addressing  him  in 
prayer,  which  are  often  painfully  unpleasant  to  many 
pious  hearts !  That  awe,  that  solemnity,  that  solemn  rec- 
ollection of  the  distance  between  God  and  us,  which 
ought  ever  to  prevail,  are  wonderfully  wanting!  Ours 
is  a  doctrine  which  exalts  God  upon  the  throne.  It 
shows  him  as  the  infinite,  sovereign  dispenser  of  bounty, 
by  his  own  holy  unchangeable  will,  accomplishing  all 
the  purposes  of  his  eternal  election — restraining  the  wrath 
of  man.,  or  causing  it  to  praise  him — bringing,  by  his  own 
Spirit,  to  the  feet  of  Jesus  Christ,  the  objects  of  his  love, 
and,  at  the  same  time,  hindering  no  sinner  from  salva- 
tion, but  olfering  it  without  money  and  without  price.  In 
this  doctrine,  God  is  like  himself— sovereign,  hol}^,  mys- 
terious, and  good.  Such  views  of  the  character  of  tlie 
Deity  are  just,  and  sober,  and  humbling,  and  holy  in 
their  influences. 


ELECTION.  169 

Omitting  further  arguments,  we  mention,  in  conclu- 
sion, some  of  the  lessons  of  instruction  which  the  view 
we  have  taken  of  this  subject  furnishes : 

1.  This  discussion  shows  us  the  error  of  those  persons 
who  pretend  that  the  election  of  God  is  only  a  national 
election,  or  an  election  to  the  enjoyment  of  privileges, 
and  not  pergonal,  relating  to  individuals. 

We  have  seen  that  believers  are  elected,  that  they 
should  be  holy.  God  chose  them  for  this.  His  choice, 
then,  was  no  mere  determination  to  furnish  nations  with 
privileges,  but  a  choice  of  individuals,  that  they  should  be 
without  blame  before  him  in  love.  His  choice  related  to 
character,  and  not  barely  to  opportunities  and  privileges. 

2.  We  see  from  the  view  we  have  taken  of  the  doc- 
trine of  election,  the  great  mistake  of  those  who  repre- 
sent the  doctrine  sls  fatalism — a  system  fixing  the  eternal 
destinies  of  men,  without  regard  to  their  character.  AYe 
preach  no  such  doctrine.  This  representation  is  a  mon- 
strous, and  (I  am  afraid)  a  wicked  misrepresentation  of 
one  of  the  doctrines  of  grace  which  we  preach.  Our 
doctrine  is  diametrically  opposed  to  this.  It  represents 
the  character  of  the  Christian,  his  regeneration,  his  holi- 
ness, to  be  just  as  much  a  matter  of  God's  eternal  choice 
as  the  salvation  of  the  Christian.  It  connects  these  two 
things  together.  Indeed,  it  makes  the  one  stand  as  the 
constant  and  unvarying  cause  of  the  other :  chosen,  that 
we  SHOULD  be  holy.     There  is  no  fatalism  here. 

3.  Our  subject  shows  us  the  monstrous  error  of  those 
who  tell  us  if  the  doctrine  of  election  is  true,  it  is  no 
matter  what  they  do,  for  if  they  are  elected  to  be  saved 
they  shall  be  saved,  and  if  not,  all  attempts  would  be  in 
vain.  The  doctrine  of  election  says  no  such  thing !  It 
tells  us  directly  the  contrary.     So  far  from  assuring  us  it 


170  ELECTION. 

is  no  matter  what  we  do,  it  assures  us  most  definitely 
that  it  has  regard  to  those  who  are  holy  and  luithout 
blame  before  God  in  love.  God  does  not  hinder  our 
becoming  such.  On  the  contrary,  he  oflfers  us  every 
motive  and  every  aid.  It  is  the  election  of  God,  and 
that  only,  which  effectually  and  for  ever  cu.ts  off  all  hope 
of  salvation  without  holiness.  Election  excludes  from 
heaven  the  unholy.  Were  there  no  decision  of  God  on 
this  matter,  the  wicked,  in  their  darkness,  might  hope, 
perhaps,  in  some  way  to  be  saved  in  their  sins.  But 
election  dashes  down  such  hopes.  It  assures  them  that 
the  election  of  God,  befoi^e  the  foundation  of  the  world, 
embraced  holiness.  Those  who  would  be  saved  must 
aim  to  be  tvithout  blame  before  him  in  love.  There  never 
was  a  more  monstrous  perversion  than  the  pretense  that 
if  election  is  true  it  is  no  matter  what  we  do !  It  is  for 
this  very  reason  that  it  does  matter  what  we  do.  Election 
is  the  very  thing  which  calls  on  us  to  cultivate  holiness 
and  love,  because  these  are  the  qualities  which  election 
will  welcome  into  heaven.     Hence, 

4.  We  perceive  the  strange  mistake  of  those  who  tell 
us  that  this  doctrine  leaves  them  nothing  to  do  in  pre- 
paring for  salvation.  It  gives  them  every  thing  to  do. 
They  must  learn  to  become  holy,  as  God  is  holy.  Elec- 
tion never  saves  men  in  sin.  They  must  repent  of  it, 
hate  it,  forsake  it.  They  must  follow  holiness  (Heb.  12  : 
14).  Their  very  calling  is  to  holiness  (1  Thess.  4  :  7). 
They  must  cultivate  the  fruits  of  the  Spirit,  love,  joy, 
peace,  long-suffering,  gentleness,  goodness,  faith,  meekness, 
temperance  (Gal.  5  :  22).  They  are  to  be  made  free  from 
sin,  to  become  servants  to  God,  to  have  their  fruit  unto  holiness, 
if  their  end  shall  be  everlasting  life  (Rom  6  :  22).  Elec- 
tion makes  it  certain,  that  without  holiness  no  man  shall 


ELECTION.  171 

see  tlie  Lord.  And  fallen  sinners  like  ns  have  mucli  to 
do,  if  we  would  mortify  sin  in  our  members,  and  become 
fit  subjects  of  all  spiritual  blessings  in  heavenly  places  in 
Christ 

5.  Finally  :  we  learn,  from  this  subject,  the  great  mis- 
take of  those  who  represent  the  doctrine  of  election  to  be 
a  very  discouraging  doctrine.  It  is  not.  It  is  the  very 
foundation  of  hope.  Had  it  not  pleased  God  to  choose 
some  to  be  holy  and  ivithoiU  blame,  what  ground  could 
you  now  have  for  entertaining  the  most  feeble  hope  of 
eternal  life?  You  could  find  none  in  your  merits — 
none  in  your  powers — and,  if  this  doctrine  were  gone, 
none  in  the  provisions,  the  securities  of  God !  But  since 
he  has  chosen  some,  there  is  reason  to  hope.  All  will 
not  perish.  Christ  has  not  died  in  vain.  Election  hin- 
ders nobody  from  holiness ;  and  every  sinner  on  earth 
may  have  just  as  much  evidence  of  his  own  election  as 
he  has  of  his  own  true  holiness.  Let  him  be  holy,  and 
he  may  know  God  has  chosen  him.  God  chooses  men 
to  holiness,  and,  therefore,  in  every  effort  they  make  to 
be  holy,  they  may  have  the  consolation  of  reflecting  that 
the  electing  God  beholds  their  efforts  with  an  approving 
eye ;  and  not  only  so,  but  every  step  they  take  in  holi- 
ness is  an  evidence  of  their  election  of  God.  If  this  is 
not  ground  of  encouragement,  what  is  ?  Men  may  go 
on  working  out  their  salvation,  making  their  calling 
and  ELECTION  sure,  and  be  cheered  by  the  unequaled 
encouragement,  that  from  eternity  God  had  them  and 
their  salvation  in  his  eye — that  he  who  has  begun  a 
good  work  in  them  will  perform  it  until  the  day  of  Jesus 
Christ  (Phil.  1  :  6),  because,  if  they  are  holy  at  all,  God 
IS  blessing  them  ivith  spiritual  blessings  in  Christ,  ACCOED- 
ING  as  lie  hath  chosen  them  in  him,  before  the  foundation  of 


172  ELECTION. 

the  world,  that  they  should  BE  holy  and  vjithout  blame  before 
him  in  love. 

We  leave  this  subject  to  your  reflection.  It  calls  you, 
my  dear  hearers,  to  the  most  carefal  and  blameless  walk. 
Election  and  holiness  go  hand  in  hand.  Never  separate 
them.  The  Divine  word  puts  them  together.  What 
God's  election  is  you  know  not ;  it  is  hidden  among  those 
veiled  mysteries  which  lie  beyond  the  darkness  that 
envelops  his  throne.  But  you  do  know  you  are  called 
to  holiness.  Election  calls  you  to  it.  It  dashes  down 
your  pride.  It  tells  you  that  God  reigns,  and  will  reign, 
and  assures  you  that  there  is  no  election  or  calling  of 
God  but  this,  that  ye  should  be  holy  and  luithout  blame. 

Go,  then,  submit  your  soul  to  a  sovereign  God. 
Submit  it  to  him  in  Christ.  Go,  luorh  out  your  salvation 
with  fear  and  trembling.  Go,  make  your  calling  and  elec- 
tion sure.  Go,  where  God  is  calling  you  in  the  footsteps 
of  Jesus  Christ ;  and  though  you  are  dead  in  sin^  you 
shall  be  made  alive  unto  God ;  and,  finally,  you  shall  go 
to  the  full  and  eternal  enjoyment  of  all  spiritual  bless- 
ings in  heavenly  places  in  Christ. 

God  grant  it  to  you,  through  infinite  grace  in  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.     Amen. 


%tovitmt]\t 


Christ  hath  once  suffered  for  sins,  the  Just  for  the  unjust,  that  he  might 
bring  us  to  God. — 1  Peter,  iii.  18. 


rpHE  central  point  of  Christianity  is  tlie  Cross  of  tlie 
Eedeemer  of  men.  Around  this  point,  the  whole 
Divine  system  encircles  itself;  and  whatever  it  is,  in  the 
principles  of  instruction,  or  in  the  sensibilities  of  experi- 
ence, that  does  not  feel  the  paramount  and  supreme 
attraction  of  the  Cross,  is  something  false,  empty,  delu- 
sive; and  its  erratic  tendency  must  be  corrected,  or  it 
will  wander  off,  alike  beyond  the  securities  of  truth,  the 
mercies  of  God,  and  the  felicities  of  man.  The  Cross — 
the  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God — the  atonement  made  for 
sin,  where  Chrid  suffered  for  sins,  the  Just  for  the  unjust^ 
is  the  central  and  supreme  idea  in  the  system  of  salvation. 
It  ought  to  be  enough  to  convince  us  of  this,  when 
we  find  the  holy  Scriptures  constantly  referring  every 
general  and  every  special  subject  to  the  sacrifice  of  the 
Saviour  for  its  elucidation.  They  always  do  so.  Things 
most  unlike,  most  distant  from  one  another,  most  oppo- 
site to  one  another,  are  referred  to  the  Cross.  For  ex- 
ample, at  once  the  attributes  of  the  Deity  and  the  malig- 
nities of  sin ;  the  justice  and  the  mercy  of  God ;  the 
boundless  majesty  of  the  Eternal  Throne,  and  the  smallest, 
gentlest  sympathies  a  dying  sinner  needs,  are  brought  to 


174  ATONEMENT. 

tlie  sacrifice  of  the  Saviour,  to  teacli  us  what  they  are, 
and  give  them  their  due  influence  over  us.  This  is  the 
style  of  the  Holy  Ghost  speaking  in  the  Scriptures. 
This  is  the  method  of  Divine  tuition. 

-  The  text  is  an  example  of  this.  It  is  not  one  of  the 
most  prominent  and  leading  things  in  religion  of  which 
the  apostle  is  speaking,  but  one  of  those  unobtrusive  and 
every-day  duties  which  might  find  their  enforcement  and 
the  principles  of  their  exercise  almost  every  where ;  and 
yet  he  brings  it  to  the  primary  idea  of  Christianity :  It  is 
tetter^  if  the  will  of  God  he  so^  that  ye  suffer  for  well-doing 
than  for  evil-doing ;  and  even  this  plain  idea,  to  give  it 
its  proper  shape  in  the  mind  of  the  Christian,  and  its 
proper  impression  upon  his  sensibilities,  must  be  re- 
ferred to  the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ  :  For  Christ 
hath  once  suffered  for  siris,  the  Just  for  the  unjust,  that 
he  might  biding  us  to  God,  This  is  the  method  of  Chris- 
tianity. It  baptizes  every  idea  with  the  baptism  of 
Christ. 

It  is  because  of  this  connection  of  a  minor  idea  of  re- 
ligion with  the  Atonement,  that  I  have  chosen  this  text, 
and  formed  the  plan  of  this  sermon.  The  Atonement 
comes  in  every  where.  This  is  the  remark  I  make  u]3on 
this  text,  and  the  idea  on  which  I  found  this  discourse. 

And  hence,  it  is  easy  to  see  the  necessity  of  having 
correct  sensibilities  of  the  nature  of  the  Atonement  itself 
This  is  the  life  of  the  Christian  system.  It  is  the  spirit 
which  animates  it ;  and  if  our  apprehensions  and  impress- 
ions about  this  are  wrong,  our  religion  will  be  wrong. 
In  proportion  to  our  error  on  this  point  will  be  our  un- 
happiness  in  Christian  experience.  If  we  do  not  catch 
the  true  sprit  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Atonement,  we  shall 
not  catch  the  true  spirit  of  Christian  life ;  and  if  we  live 


ATONEMENT.  175 

at  all  to  Christ  then,  it  will  be  a  diseased  and  sickly  life ; 
and,  instead  of  resembling  those  wlio  breathe  the  pure 
atmosphere  that  quickens  a  heavenly  existence,  we  shall 
resemble  those  who  breathe  the  poisoned  and  pestilent 
vapors  that  sometimes  float  even  over  the  green  fields 
of  the  Zion  of  God.  The  Atonement  is  the  believer's 
breath  of  life.  He  can  not  take  a  step,  he  can  not  speak 
a  word,  he  can  not  feel  an  emotion  in  religion  without  it. 
It  tempers  all  his  hopes,  his  fears,  his  faith.  It  governs 
his  humility,  his  peace,  his  love.  It  guides  his  gentle- 
ness, his  goodness.  It  opens  the  fountain  of  his  tears. 
It  is  the  key-note  of  the  song  he  sings.  And,  when  he 
goes  forth  to  do  good,  it  turns  him  from  the  track  of  the 
Levite  and  the  Priest^  to  the  better  path  of  the  good  Samar- 
itan^ who  bears  his  oil  and  his  wine.  If  this  pervading 
principle,  therefore,  becomes  corrupted,  all  else  will  par- 
take of  the  taint.  If  the  truth  of  the  principle  is  all  lost, 
grace  will  not  exist  in  the  soul,  and  the  soul  will  not  be 
saved. 

As  the  plan  of  this  discourse,  therefore,  I  will  mention 
and  explain  two  different  methods  of  apjDrehending  the 
Atonement  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  point  out  their  distinct- 
ive characteristics.     This  shall  be  the  first  thing. 

And,  having  thus  shown  their  diversity,  I  will  demon- 
strate which  is  the  proper  method  of  influencing  a  be- 
liever's sensibility.     This  shall  be  the  second  thing. 

But  the  nature  of  this  subject  is  such,  that  we  need 
some  caution  in  speaking  and  hearing.  Allow  me,  by 
way  of  preface,  therefore,  to  remark  : 

1.  That  in  treating  of  this  theme,  I  have  no  reference 
to  that  long-continued  dispute  in  the  Church,  about  the 
extent  of  the  Atonement,  whether  it  is  universal  or  par- 
ticular, general  and  unlimited,  or  special  in  its  nature. 


176  ATONEMENT. 

2.  Tliat  the  error  at  whicli  I  aim  is  found  (for  auglit 
I  know)  as  frequently  among  those  who  adopt  one  of 
these  theological  systems,  as  among  those  who  adopt  the 
other.  It  is  an  error  compatible  at  once  with  the  idea  of 
general,  and  the  idea  of  particular  atonement. 

3.  That  the  evil  of  which  I  shall  speak,  and  the  oppo- 
site excellence  w^hich  I  shall  aim  to  commend,  are  not  so 
much  matters  of  theology  as  of  experience ;  that  they  are 
things  affecting  tlie  sensibilities  of  a  Christian's  piety,  far 
more  than  the  principles  of  a  believer's  creed. 

4.  Final  remark  ;  that,  so  far  as  I  am  going  to  say  any 
tbing  of  principles,  and  views,  and  doctrines,  as  connected 
with  Christian  unbappiness  or  mistake  in  this  matter,  I 
do  not  mean  to  censure  any  principle,  or  view,  or  doctrine 
hy  itself:  I  do  not  complain  of  any  one  as  false.  The 
evil  at  which  I  aim  is  more  subtle,  more  deep,  more 
difficult  of  detection,  more  difficult  to  be  spoken  of  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  be  understood.  We  must  bespeak 
your  attention.  The  evil  in  principle  (if  there  is  any 
except  in  mere  sensihility)  consists,  not  in  false  principle, 
necessarily,  (mark  this  distinction,)  but  in  giving  to  differ- 
ent TRUE  principles  an  improper  proportion  of  importance. 
It  makes  a  secondary  truth  a  primary  one,  and  degrades 
a  primary  truth  to  a  secondary  station.  This,  if  any,  is 
all  the  doctrinal  evil  connected  with  the  matter,  which  I 
would  lead  you  to  deplore  and  shun. 

With  these  cautionary  and  explanatory  remarks  re- 
tained in  the  mind  of  the  hearer,  we  shall  not  be  likely 
to  be  misunderstood  in  the  heart  of  the  subject  on  which 
we  now  enter. 

I.  We  are  to    mention   and    explain  two    different 


ATONEMENT.  177 

methods  of  apprehending  the  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  point  out  their  distinctive  characteristics. 

There  are  two  very  different  methods  of  being  affected — 
(that  is  the  word — I  do  not  say,  opinionated^  or  indoctrin- 
ated— I  say  affected — every  word  has  been  carefully 
studied ;)  there  are  two  very  different  methods  of  being 
affected  by  the  idea  of  the  sacrifice  of  the  Saviour.  Prob- 
ably these  methods  arise  from  different  methods  of 
apprehending  the  Scripture  doctrines  on  this  point. 
Principles  govern  the  believer.  They  must  govern  him. 
They  mould  his  sensibihties,  they  rule  his  heart,  as  he  is 
a  child  and  disciple  of  the  truth.  In  both  these  methods 
the  truth  may  be  embraced ;  but  one  way  of  embracing 
it  is  very  different  from  another,  and  gives  rise  to  a  very 
different  habit  of  religious  thoughts  and  impressions. 
In  one  case,  the  essence  of  the  atonement  seems  to  be  a 
satisfaction  rendered  to  Divine  justice  and  authority  for 
the  indignity  done  to  them  by  sin :  its  object  seems  to  be, 
to  sustain  the  honor  of  the  Divine  law  ;  to  vindicate  the 
rectitude  and  wisdom  of  the  Divine  legislation;  and 
maintain,  in  all  its  unimpaired  vigor,  the  energies  and 
respect  of  the  Divine  government.  Its  origin  seems  to 
be,  that  infinite  and  holy  regard,  which  the  infinite  and 
holy  Kuler  of  the  world  has,  and  must  always  have,  for 
his  own  holy  law,  which  sin  has  broken,  and  for  that 
whole  system  of  moral  control,  by  which  he  is  pleased 
to  administer  the  government  of  the  world.  Sin  (the 
folly  and  the  hardihood  of  man)  has  committed  the 
enormity  of  transgressing  the  law.  In  doing  so,  it  has 
trampled  an  infinite  authority,  called  in  question  the 
infinite  wisdom  of  God's  legislative  requirements,  and 
dared  to  break  in  on  the  order,  and  beauty,  and  har- 
mony  of  that  system    of   Divine  rule  in    which  the 


178  ATONEMENT. 

Deity  delights.  Hence,  God  is  offended  !  His  system  of 
wisdom  has  been  set  at  nought !  His  broken  laws  are 
scattered  around  him  !  Disorder  has  marred  his  plan  ! 
And  if  something  is  not  done  to  maintain  the  respect 
due  to  his  authority,  and  to  preserve  the  integrity  of  his 
government,  the  Deity  will  be  for  ever  dishonored,  and 
the  sinner  for  ever  undone.  To  pardon  will  not  do,  for 
the  law  has  a  penalty  and  will  not  relax — for  the  verac- 
ity of  the  Deity  must  be  true  to  the  threatening — for 
government  must  be  maintained ;  and,  if  one  guilty  race 
of  the  rebellious  shall  be  acquitted  and  go  free,  no  fear, 
no  respect,  no  effective  motive  will  be  found,  to  influence 
other  races,  in  perhaps  other  worlds,  and  other  ages  of 
time  or  eternity,  to  abstain  from  sin.  Hence,  Jesus 
Christ  must  die,  or  the  sinner  can  not  live.  Law,  order, 
the  Divine  government,  demand  the  death  of  the  Saviour. 
God's  own  love  of  holiness  and  hatred  of  sin  demand  it. 
His  regard  for  his  own  honor  and  the  preservation  of 
that  moral  system,  by  which  he  rejoices  to  rule  his  moral 
creatures,  demand  it.  On  this  ground  many  a  believer 
apprehends  that  the  Atonement  for  sin  was  made  ;  and 
its  essence,  its  leading  idea  seems  to  him  to  be  an  offer- 
ing to  Divine  justice,  or  a  plan  to  sustain  Divine  law 
and  government,  while  a  guilty  creature  is  forgiven  and 
saved. 

This  is  one  method  of  apprehending  the  doctrine  of 
atonement.  The  ideas  of  one,  who  apprehends  it  in  this 
way,  will  recur  naturally  to  the  law,  the  justice,  the 
government  of  the  Deity,  whenever  the  expiation  made 
by  Christ  is  considered.  The  sensibilities,  the  emotions, 
the  habitudes  of  pious  feeling  with  such  a  one,  will  all 
be  connected  with  the  proprieties  of  holiness,  the  Divine 
government    and    honor.     These  things    will  be  first. 


ATONEMENT.  179 

They  will  take  the  lead.  They  will  temper  the  grateful 
piety  of  the  heart ;  and,  when  the  blood  of  Atonement 
comes  into  view,  one  who  views  it  in  this  way  will  see 
that  the  law  is  magnified  and  made  honorable^  and  a  door 
of  hope  opened  to  the  guilty.  This  is  one  method  of 
apprehending  the  Atonement.  And  all  these  ideas, 
taken  separatel}^,  are  just.  God  does  love  his  Law ;  his 
government  and  authority  must  be  maintained ;  and  it 
did  enter  into  the  reasons  for  the  Saviour's  death,  that 
God  might  he  just  and  the  justifier  of  him  who  believes  in 
his  Son. 

But  there  is  another  style  of  apprehending  the  Atone- 
ment. It  makes  the  illustrious  sacrifice  of  Jesus  Christ 
less  public,  but  more  personal  in  its  aims.  In  this  case 
the  sensibilities  of  the  believer,  his  habits  of  feeling  as 
he  resorts  to  Christ  and  his  cross,  are  not  ]^Timarily 
affected  by  any  ideas  of  a  public  nature  or  governmental 
transaction.  With  such  a  one,  the  essence  of  the  atone- 
ment seems  to  be,  a  satisfaction  rendered  to  the  Deity 
for  the  offence  of  the  sinner,  (I  do  not  say  for  the  offence 
of  sin,  but  the  sinner^)  so  that  the  sinner  can  be  saved : 
its  ohject  seems  to  be  to  make  peace  for  the  sinner  with 
his  offended  Father,  so  that  the  alienated  may  be  rec- 
onciled, and  God,  in  the  fullness  of  his  tenderness, 
may  throw  the  arms  of  his  fatherly  embrace  around 
his  guilty,  but  forgiven  child :  its  origin  seems  to  be, 
that  tender  and  wonderful  love  which  God  has  for 
even  poor,  guilty  sinners;  so  that,  even  when  justice 
demands  it,  and  the  throne  of  God  would  be  for  ever 
spotless,  if  they  should  all  sink  to  perdition,  God  will 
not  give  them  up.  But  while  justice  is  offended,  author- 
ity outraged,  law  and  government  dishonored,  and  the 
sinner  himself  is  as  ungrateful,  as  rebellious,  as  undesir- 


180  ATONEMENT. 

ous  to  be  reconciled  as  he  is  guilty,  the  kindness  of 
God  still  pursues  him  and  pours  on  his  deafened  ear  that 
flood  of  persuasion,  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his 
only  begotten  So7i,  that  whosoever  helieveth  in  him  should  not 
jierish  hut  have  everlasting  life.  In  this  case,  sin  is  re- 
garded as  having  ruined  the  sinner,  and  Christ  as  having 
died  out  of  love  to  save  him ;  and  the  sensibilities  of  a 
believer's  piety,  instead  of  being  affected,  as  in  the  other 
case  we  mentioned,  by  a  great  governmental  transaction, 
are  far  sooner  affected  by  such  ideas  as  that — 

"  This  was  compassion  like  a  God, 
That,  when  the  Saviour  knew 
The  price  of  pardon  was  his  blood, 
His  pity  ne'er  withdrew." 

In  this  case,  it  is  not  the  government  of  God  but  the  com- 
passion of  God — not  the  honoring  of  law,  but  the  par- 
doning of  the  sinner,  that  seems  to  come  most  naturally 
and  sweetly  over  the  heart  of  the  believer.  This  is  his 
method  of  Christian  affection ;  this  is  the  way  in  which 
the  believer  is  accustomed  to  have  his  impressions  regu- 
lated, his  faith,  his  hope,  his  love,  his  sacred  confidence 
quickened  by  the  ideas  of  the  Atonement  of  Christ.  His 
sensibilities,  his  habitudes  of  pious  feeling,  are  all  con- 
nected, firsts  with  that  paternal  but  infinite  love  which 
followed  hard  after  him  in  his  prodigal  wanderings,  and 
would  sooner  give  up  the  Son  to  bathe,  with  his  blood, 
the  sword  of  Divine  justice,  than  leave  even  such  a  guilty 
sinner  to  his  deserved  doom.  In  this  case,  whenever 
the  Atonement  comes  to  mind,  the  love,  the  kindness, 
the  compassion  of  God  come  with  it.  These  things  are 
first.  They  will  take  the  lead.  They  will  temper  the 
grateful  piety  of  the  heart.     And  as  believers,   who 


ATONEMiJNT.  181 

apprehend  tlie  Atonement  in  this  method,  indulge  the 
hopes  and  tenderness  of  their  piety,  they  learn  to  say : 
We  love  him,  because  he  first  loved  us — he  is  our  j)eace — 
he  hath  reconciled  us  to  God^  not  merely  to  his  government, 
but  to  God,  by  his  cross. 

And  all  these  ideas,  like  those  we  have  mentioned  in 
the  other  case,  are  true.  The  difference  between  these  two 
methods  of  apprehending  the  Atonement  does  not  con- 
sist in  the  fact,  that  either  of  them  embraces  falsehoods ; 
or  in  the  fact  that  any  particular  ideas  of  the  one  method 
are,  in  themselves^  incompatible  with  any  particular  ideas 
of  the  other  method.  The  difference  consists  rather  in 
the  order,  the  arrangement  of  truths,  in  the  shape  in 
which  they  lie  in  the  mind,  and  the  method  in  which 
they  influence  the  feelings  of  piety.  The  same  believer 
may,  at  times,  employ  both,  without  changing  one  of  the 
principles  of  his  creed.  The  difference  is  more  a  matter 
of  sentiment  than  of  doctrine.  It  belongs  to  the  heart, 
not  to  the  head. 

But  it  is  certain  there  is  a  difference.  These  methods 
are  not  the  same.  Perhaps  I  shall  be  more  clearly  un- 
derstood, if  I  place  in  immediate  contrast  some  of  their 
distinctive  characteristics.     Let  us  see. 

One  method  of  apprehending  the  Atonement  makes  it 
governmental,  the  other  individual.  In  the  one  case, 
the  believer  sees  first,  that  law  must  be  honored,  Divine 
government  maintained :  in  the  other,  he  sees  first,  that 
the  love  of  God  yearns  over  the  poor  sinner. 

One  method  makes  the  Atonement  honor  law :  the 
other  makes  it  save  the  sinner. 

One  method  makes  it  a  public  thing :  the  other  makes 
it  one  of  the  actings  of  special  love. 

One  makes  it  great :  the  other  makes  it  affectionate. 


182  ATONEMENT. 

One  represents  God  as  glorifying  liimself  in  tlie  "wliole ; 
the  other,  as  endearing  and  glorifying  liimself  in  a  single 
sinner  that  repentetli. 

One  method  exalts  his  authority  as  king :  the  other, 
while  it  exalts,  endears  his  authority  as  a  Father. 

The  one  makes  God  a  contriver  of  matchless  wisdom : 
the  other  makes  him  a  friend  of  matchless  tenderness. 

The  one  method  makes  individual  sinners  happily 
subordinate  to  a  plan  of  infinite  wisdom  which  (while  it 
saves  sinners)  is  going  to  manage  a  universe,  and,  by  the 
mighty  vastness  and  harmony  of  its  great  redeeming 
transactions,  give  lustre  to  the  diadem  that  crowns  the 
brow  of  the  King  of  kings  and  Lord  of  lords :  the  other 
makes  the  great  plans  of  eternal  and  infinite  love  sub- 
ordinate to  the  felicitous  interests  of  the  least  of  God's 
moral  creatures,  and  gives  the  brightest  glory  to  the  dia- 
dem of  God,  when  it  writes  upon  it,  for  the  sinner's 
view — Father  of 'mercies,  King  of  saints. 

Tiie  one  method  would  lead  the  sinner  to  stand  by  the 
cross,  as  the  centurion  stood ;  and,  while  the  rocks  were 
rent  and  tlie  heavens  grew  dark  as  the  Saviour  groaned, 
would  lead  him  to  exclaim,  Surely  this  was  the  Son  of 
God :  the  other  would  lead  him  to  stand  there,  as  John 
and  Mary  stood — silent,  subdued,  and  satisfied,  not  a 
word  to  say,  but  every  thing  to  feel,  as  the  august  but 
dying  Victim  exclaims,  It  is  finished — and  gives  up  the 
ghost. 

These,  as  near  as  I  am  able  to  express  them,  are  some  of 
the  distinctive  traits  of  these  two  methods  of  being 
affected  by  the  sacrifice  of  the  Saviour.  They  both  em- 
brace the  same  truths,  but  they  yield  to  them  different 
degrees  of  proportionate  regard. 


ATONEMENT.  183 

n.  I  am  to  demonstrate  wliicli  of  these  two  is  the 
proper  method  of  Christian  sensibility.  I  name  to  you 
six  or  seven  proofs,  to  show  that  our  hearts  ought  to 
apprehend  the  Saviour's  atonement,  not  so  much  as  a 
plan  to  prepare  the  way  to  save  sinners — not  so  much  as 
a  public  governmental  transaction  due  to  law,  to  holi- 
ness and  the  authoritj^  of  the  Deity — as  a  more  personal 
and  special  sacrifice  to  meet  the  sins,  and  sorrows,  and 
wants  of  the  soul  itself 

1.  The  first  proof  is  taken  from  the  manner  in  which 
the  origin  of  the  redemption  purchased  by  Christ  is 
usually  spoken  of  in  the  Scriptures.  It  originated  in 
the  kindness  of  Grod  for  ruined  man — God  so  loved  the 
world.  Here  is  the  fountain  of  it.  It  flows  from  the 
depths  of  the  compassion  of  God.  It  originates  in  the 
love  of  a  Father's  heart  over  the  misery,  and  profligacy, 
and  rebelliousness  of  a  ruined  child.  He  has  wandered 
from  home.  He  has  abandoned  his  best  interests,  while 
he  has  rebelled  against  the  most  kind  and  holy  authority. 
He  has  lost  every  thing.  He  merits  nothing.  And  the 
true  method  of  appreciating  the  Atonement — the  Scrip- 
ture representation  of  its  origin,  is  this :  that  God  feels 
toward  the  sinner  just  as  a  father  would  feel  toward  a 
prodigal  son.  What  is  it  that  makes  such  a  father's 
heart  bleed?  What  is  it  that  fills  his  eyes  with  tears,  as 
the  recollection  of  the  ruined  child  presses  upon  his 
bosom  ?  It  is  not  the  disregard  of  his  authority — it  is  not 
the  dishonor  of  his  family  and  his  name — it  is  not  the 
dreadful  ingratitude  of  his  ruined  child.  All  these  he 
could  have  borne.  But  that  his  child  himself  should  be 
miserable  and  guilty — his  son,  his  beloved  son,  over 
whose  infancy  he  watched,  and  prayed,  and  jpoured  out 
his  tears — over  whose  youth  his  heart  beat  such  unutter- 


184  ATONEMENT. 

able  emotions,  as  lie  hoped  that  son  would  be  useful,  and 
honorable,  and  happy — would  stay  up  the  trembling 
steps  of  his  age — would  smooth  his  dying  pillow,  and  lay 
him  in  his  grave — that  this  son  should  be  miserable  and 
guilty,  is  more  than  the  father  can  bear!  This  is  his 
anguish !  This  is  his  wormwood  and  gall !  And  this  is 
the  primary  feeling  which  would  influence  him  to  do 
any  thing  for  the  recovery  of  the  wanderer :  almost  the 
only  feeling.  It  overshadows  all  others.  Make  that  son 
happy,  and  the  father  would  be  willing  that  his  own  gray 
hairs  should  descend  dishonored  into  the  grave.  It  is  thus 
that  the  Scriptures  represent  the  origin  of  the  Atone- 
ment. It  comes  from  the  LOVE  of  God  toward  sinners, 
not  from  his  mere  attachment  to  a  holy  moral  govern- 
ment :  T]ie  kindness  and  love  of  God  our  Saviour  toivard 
man  hath  appeared,  7iot  hy  ivorhs  of  righteousness  lohich  ive 
have  done,  hut  according  to  his  mercy  he  saved  us  .  .  .  that 
being  justified  hy  his  grace,  we  should  he  made  heirs  accord- 
ing to  the  hope  of  eternal  life. 

This  is  the  Scripture  representation.  The  Atonement 
originates,  not  in  the  love  of  God  for  a  holy  system, 
which  sin  has  broken  and  dishonored,  but  in  the  love  of 
God  for  a  precious  being  whom  sin  has  ruined.  His 
holy  system  might  have  been  honored,  his  justice  hon- 
ored, his  government  honored,  without  it.  Thej^  ivere 
honored  when  Sodom  burnt  and  when  Satan  fell.  The 
spirits  in  prison,  reserved  in  chains  unto  the  judgment  of 
the  great  day,  demonstrate  that  the  Deity  has  a  method 
of  maintaining  his  authority  aside  from  the  cross  of  his 
Son. 

2.  The  second  proof  is  found  in  the  style  of  the  Scrip- 
ture expression  respecting  the  ohject  of  the  Atonement. 

I  am  not  aware  that  that  object,  in  a  single  passage  of 


ATONEMENT.  185 

Divine  writ,  is  said  to  be  to  honor  the  Divine  law,  or 
sustain  the  authority  of  justice  and  the  Divine  govern- 
ment. These  things  are  often  spoken  of,  indeed,  as 
being  done  by  the  sacrifice  of  Christ — he  magnified  the 
law,  and  made  it  honorable.  But  if  you  will  particularly 
notice  the  manner  in  which  they  are  spoken  of,  you 
will  perceive  these  are  merely  incidental.,  or  secondary, 
while  the  primary  ohjeci  of  the  Saviour's  sacrifice  was 
another  thing.  It  is  the  persons  that  are  first  had  in 
view  to  be  saved — not  the  great  plan  of  holy  and  uni- 
versal government  to  be  honored.  He  ivas  wounded. 
For  the  honor  of  a  broken  law  ?  How  dreadfully  that 
would  change  the  sentiment  of  the  Scriptures !  I  per- 
ceive, while  I  utter  it,  the  very  idea  makes  your  heart 
sink  within  you !  No,  no !  He  luas  wounded  for  OUR 
transgressions^  he  was  bruised  for  OUR  iniquities,  the  chas- 
tisement ofoVR  PEACE  tuas  upon  him,  and  by  his  stri2:>es  WE 
are  healed.  This  is  the  style  of  the  Holy  Spirit-  The 
sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God  was  no  mere  exhibition — no 
mere  public  opening  of  the  way  of  mercy.  He  was  slain 
for  us,  the  Just  for  the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  to 
God. 

8.  The  third  proof  is  taken  from  the  proper  and  most 
distressful  feelings  that  we  experience  about  sin.  What 
are  these  feelings  ?  Not  that  the  Divine  government  has 
been  dishonored — not  that  the  proprieties  of  a  system  of 
righteous  conduct  have  been  disregarded — not  even  that 
the  thunders  of  Heaven  are  aroused  and  ready  to  burst 
upon  the  sinner's  devoted  head.  All  this  he  can  feel  in 
his  impenitence,  and  before  the  Holy  Spirit  has  made  on 
his  heart  the  most  proper  and  distressful  impressions  of 
the  evil  of  sin.  These  impressions  are  different.  They 
contain  the  deep  sadness  of  the  conviction,  that  God's 


186  ATONEMENT. 

love  is  forfeited — that  the  anger  of  God  (the  most  dis- 
tressful of  all  ideas)  is  righteously  incurred — that  of  our- 
selves, we  are  so  undone,  and  guilty,  and  unworthy,  we 
cannot  attain  peace.  Sin  itself  is  then  a  burden  to  us ! 
Our  Father's  heart  is  estranged  from  us  1  Our  own  heart 
is  void,  and  blank,  and  bleeding!  It  wants  something — - 
something  to  lean  upon !  not  a  plan^  but  a  friend.  Con- 
viction of  sin  is  the  dreadful  desolation  of  a  robbed  soul ; 
guilty,  unworthy,  helpless,  fatherless !  it  is  cut  off  from 
God! 

Now,  if  such  is  the  essence  of  conviction,  what  is  the 
essence  of  the  sensibility  which  the  heart  experiences,  as 
it  closes  with  the  Saviour  ?  Does  it  close  with  a  a  plan  ? 
or  with  a  friend  ?  Does  it  close  with  a  governmental  con- 
trivance? or  close  with  a  precious  Christ?  You  have 
often  sung  its  experience : 

"  That  blest  moment  I  received  him 
Filled  my  soul  with  joy  and  peace, 
Love  I  much,  I  've  much  forgiven; 
I  'm  a  miracle  of  grace." 

The  believer  through  Christ  is  something  more  than 
reconciled  to  righteous  authority;  he  is  restored  to  a 
Father's  heart. 

4.  We  take  a  fourth  proof  from  the  method  in  which 
believers,  all  those  of  the  most  sweet  and  marked  piety, 
have  rejoiced.  They  have  rejoiced  exactly  like  young 
converts — in  the  sweetness  and  simplicity  of  a  blessed 
confidence — in  what  God  calls  the  hindness  of  their  youth, 
the  love  of  their  espousals.  When  piety  has  been  pure, 
when  they  have  had  grace  enough  not  onlj'-  to  be  re- 
ligious, but  to  be  happy  in  religion,  all  their  joy,  their 
peace,  their  triumph,  has  been  intimately  connected  with 


ATONEMENT.  187 

a  personal  reception  of  Jesus  Clirist  as  their  own 
Saviour,  tlieir  friend,  tlieir  elder  brother.  They  take  his 
righteousness :  tliey  are  sprinkled  with  his  blood :  they 
enter  into  all  such  arguments  as  breathe  in  tliat  passage, 
because  I  live,  ye  shall  live  also. 

Notice  this,  when,  by  the  power  of  Divine  grace,  they 
can  tread  the  world  under  foot :  Ood  forbid  that  I  should 
glory,  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  by  lohom 
the  world  is  crucified  unto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world. 

Notice  this,  when  the  confidence  of  faith  challenges 
the  claims  of  righteousness :  Who  shall  lay  any  thing  to 
the  charge  of  Ood''s  elect?  It  is  God  that  justifieth :  Who  is 
he  that  coyidemiieth  ?  It  is  Christ  that  died,  yea  rather  that 
is  risen  again,  who  is  even  at  the  right  hand  of  God,  who  also 
maketh  intercession  for  us.  It  is^or  US.  Christ  hath  been 
delivered  up  for  vs.  This  is  the  idea ;  not  for  a  plaii^ 
but  for  his  peoi^le:  this  is  the  leading  and  the  sweetest 
impression. 

Notice  this,  when  the  power  of  religion  transports  a 
believer  beyond  himself,  in  his  desires  to  serve  God  and 
win  souls  to  Christ :  The  love  of  Christ  constraineih  us,  be- 
cause tve  thus  judge  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  vjere  all 
dead;  o.nd  that  he  died  for  all,  that  they  which  live  should 
not  henceforth  live  unto  themselves,  but  unto  him  who  died  for 
them  and  rose  again.  Henceforth,  know  ive  no  man  after 
the  flesh :  if  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  neio  creature  ; 
old  things  are  passed  away,  all  things  are  become  neiu,  and 
all  things  are  of  God,  ivho  hath  7'econciled  US  to  HIMSELF 
by  Jesus  Christ.  We  are  embassadors  for  Christ.  As 
though  God  did  beseech  you  by  us,  we  p)ray  you  in  Chrisfs 
stead,  be  ye  reconciled  to  God.  For  he  hath  made  him  to  be 
sin  for  US,  that  we  might  be  made  the  righteousness  of  God  in 
HIM.    For   us — in  him:  The  Apostle  can  not  speak 


188  ATONEMENT. 

without  indicating  in  wliicli  method  he  apprehends  the 
Atonement  of  Christ.  This  is  the  style  of  feeling  in 
which  all  happy  and  triumphing  believers  speak ;  and 
this  comes  from  the  very  nature  of  spiritual  life. 

"  Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken, 
All  to  leave,  and  follow  tliee  ; 
Naked,  poor,  despised,  forsaken. 
Thou  from  hence  my  all  shall  be. 

Farewell,  every  fond  ambition, 

All  I  've  sought,  or  loved,  or  known ; 

Yet,  how  blest  is  my  condition, — 
Christ  and  heaven  are  still  my  own." 

5.  We  bring  a  fifth  proof  from  the  nature  of  that 
faith  that  saves.  What  is  its  nature  ?  what  does  it  do  ? 
It  is  the  gracious  and  indissoluble  bond  of  union  that 
connects — what?  the  soul  to  an  economy? — to  a  con- 
trivance ? — no,  nothing  like  it ;  but,  the  sinner  to  Jesus 
Christ.  /  am  the  vine ;  ye  are  the  branches.  Faith  re- 
ceives him  and  rests  on  him.  He  is  the  offer  that  God 
makes  to  a  sinner.  My  beloved  is  mine,  and  lam  his^  are 
the  two  exultations  of  faith. 

6.  You  may  find  a  sixth  proof  in  the  best  frames  of 
heart  which  ever  cheer  and  comfort  the  people  of  God. 
Their  frames  are  not  all  alike.  The  believer's  heart  does 
not  always  burn  luithin  him,  but  only  while  he  talks  with 
a  risen  Christ.  In  the  times  of  your  coldness  you  still 
feel  that  Christ  honors  law ;  in  your  best  frames  you 
feel  that  Christ  is  your  friend  ;  this  is  the  sensibility  of 
your  sweetest  and  tenderest  moments : 

*'  He  saw  me  ruined  in  the  fall, 
But  loved  me  notvvitlistandiug  all ; 
lie  saved  me  from  my  low  estate, — 
His  loving-kindness,  O  how  gi*eat  I" 


ATONEMENT.  189 

Sucli  is  the  strain  of  tlie  songs  that  the  Christian  loves  to 
sing  in  times  of  revival ;  and  with  which  he  loves  to  in- 
dulge his  heart  when  alone  in  the  sweet  solemnity  of  his 
closet  he  communes  with  God.  Plan,  government,  is 
forgotten  ;  but  Christ  has  come  into  his  hanquetmg-house, 
and  his  banner  over  you  is  love. 

7.  I  find  a  final  proof  in  the  necessities  of  my  own 
nature.  Man  is  in  the  world  but  a  little  while.  Through 
distressful  changes  he  is  hurrying  on  to  another.  His 
experiences  often  convince  him  that  he  knows  but  little 
of  what  it  is  that  can  make  him  happy  ;  and,  whether 
in  this  world  or  in  another,  his  nature  is  such  that, 
among  his  vicissitudes  and  his  trials,  he  needs  a  friend. 
As  he  looks  forward  to  the  uncertainties  before  him — ■ 
to  his  death — to  his  eternity — he  cannot  be  satisfied 
with  any  plan  for  his  felicity,  with  any  profusion,  or 
promise  of  bounty,  without  something  more.  The 
heart  demands  more.  It  has  a  want,  a  void,  that  no 
mere  arrangement,  or  economy,  or  plan  can  fill.  The 
child  would  not  be  satisfied,  and  could  not  long  be 
happy,  without  something  more.  His  parents  may  sup- 
ply all  his  outward  wants,  may  protect,  defend,  and 
teach  him ;  but  if  he  is  a  virtuous  and  afiectionate  child, 
all  this  can  not  make  him  happy.  He  needs  their 
LOVE.  This  is  the  want  of  his  heart  and  he  can  not,  if 
he  would,  dispense  with  it.  The  wife  could  never  be 
satisfied  (and  ought  not  to  be)  with  all  the  attention  and 
care,  and  all  the  protection  and  supply  that  the  most 
vigilant  husband  could  fnrnish.  Amid  all  this,  she 
would  pine  and  languish — grief  would,  consume  her 
heart,  if  she  knew  all  this  attention  and  arrangement 
were  dictated  by  no  afiection  for  her,  but  only  by  a  cold 
sense  of  propriety.     Give  her  the  confidence  of  requited 


190  ATONEMENT. 

love,  and  slie  will  bear  any  thing  without  a  murmur,  side 
by  side  with  him  round  whom  her  heart  clings.  She 
will  share  his  crust,  and  his  cabin  or  his  cave,  if  he  can 
do  no  better  for  her.  It  is  nature  that  works  thus.  The 
heart  demands  something  to  repose  upon.  Plans,  ar- 
rangements, contrivances  will  not  do.  Affection  would 
spurn  them  when  substituted  in  the  place  of  the  com- 
munion, the  tenderness,  the  sympathies  of  love.  Pro- 
fusion, bounty,  promise  will  not  do.  There  is  one  thing, 
and  there  is  but  one,  that  can  fill  up  the  void  and  pour 
happiness  into  the  aching  bosom. 

Just  so,  only  a  thousand-fold  greater  in  degree,  are  the 
sinner's  wants  for  eternity.  He  can  see  but  a  little  way. 
Death  will  soon  remove  him  into  a  state  of  untried  being. 
He  is  going  to  leave  all  the  sympathy  and  fellowship 
that  have  cheered  him  here.  He  must  take  a  final  leave 
of  his  family.  He  is  bound  to  eternity,  and  can  not  tarry. 
And  he  is  going  there,  a  poor,  helpless,  and  unworthy 
sinner.  He  is  going  to  be  judged.  All  his  sins  shall 
come  to  light.  He  who  sits  upon  the  judgment-seat  is 
holy  and  just,  and  holds  all  the  destinies  of  a  dreadful 
eternity  in  his  hand. 

Now,  the  Atonement  of  Christ  is  enough  to  meet  all 
this.  It  perfectly  answers  to  the  sinner's  wants,  and  per- 
fectly satisfies  his  heart,  and  many  a  dying  believer  has 
longed  to  dejoart  and  he  luiili  Christ.  But  it  could  not  do 
these  things,  if  Divine  grace  only  taught  him  to  repose 
upon  the  abstractions  of  wisdom,  and  left  him  without  a 
friend.  But  it  has  not.  It  has  taught  him  that  there  is 
One  whose  love  will  not  fail  him.  He  needs  not  only  to 
be  provided  for,  to  be  pardoned,  but  to  he  loved.  He 
needs  to  have  God  love  him — the  holy  Judge  and  Father 
of  Eternity.     And  all  his  want  is  supplied,  when,  in  the 


ATONEMENT.  191 

true  metliod  of  apprehending  the  Atonement,  he  says  of 
the  Saviour,  Who  loved  ME,  and  gave  himself  a  ransom  FOR 
ME :  Christ  hath  once  suffered^  the  Just  for  the  unjust,  that 
he  might  bring  us  to  God :  He  luill  come  again  and  receive 
us  to  himself,  that  ichere  he  is  there  we  may  he  also: 

"  He  near  my  soul  has  always  stood, 
His  loving-kindness,  oh  !  how  good." 

This  subject  needs  not  a  word  of  application  to  be- 
lievers. They  have  made  the  application  as  we  have 
gone  along.  I  should  be  ashamed  to  insult  you  with 
any  other. 

But,  in  view  of  this  subject,  ought  we  not  to  wonder 
and  exclaim,  over  the  senseless  hearts  of  these  sinners, 
who  will  not  be  drawn  by  the  love  of  Christ  ?  and  who, 
on  the  next  Lord's  day,  when  Christ  will  meet  his  loved 
ones  at  his  sacramental  table,  and  pour  the  balm  of  com- 
fort upon  their  wounded  hearts,  will  turn  away  from  the 
banqueting-house  of  God's  eternal  love !  I  would  not 
do  it  for  a  thousand  worlds.  How  can  you  treat  so  one 
who  has  loved  you  as  Christ  has  loved  you,  and  done  for 
you  what  no  other  being  could?  Be  astonished,  oh 
heavens !  Here,  on  this  sin-cursed  world,  which  has 
drunk  the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God,  a  sinner  turns  his 
back  upon  him  !  If  there  is  compassion  in  the  universe, 
it  is  God's  !  If  there  is  kindness,  tenderness  any  where, 
it  is  found  in  that  Saviour,  whose  blood  you  are  tram- 
pling under  foot !  If  you  have  got  a  friend  in  the  uni- 
verse, it  is  Christ ;  and  yet,  "  You  treat  no  other  friend 
so  ill." 


IBtti'i  ^iiropiatf  ill  °|l«i)em|)tiou. 


For  I  would  that  ye  knew  what  great  conflict  I  have  for  you,  and  for  them 
at  Laodicea,  and  for  as  many  as  have  not  seen  my  face  in  the  flesh ; 
that  their  hearts  might  be  comforted,  being  knit  together  in  love,  and 
unto  all  riches  of  the  full  assurance  of  understanding,  to  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  the  mystery  of  God,  and  of  the  Father,  and  of  Christ ;  in  whom 
are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge. — Colossians,  ii.  1-3. 


TN  few  words,  we  desire  to  give  the  briefest  possible 
exposition  of  this  passage.     Five  points  will  suffice. 

1.  You  will  notice  the  apostle' speaks  of  his  own  Chris- 
tian desire,  of  the  great  conflict  in  his  own  mind,  as  he  ex- 
presses it,  in  behalf  of  other  Christians,  some  of  whom  he 
had  never  seen.  As  is  common  with  him,  he  speaks  out 
of  the  fullness  of  his  heart  as  a  believer  and  a  Christian 
minister,  and,  therefore,  you  need  not  expect  him  to  be 
confined  to  the  intellectual  mode  of  a  mere  human  rea- 
soning. He  will  reason  like  a  child  of  God — as  if  he  had 
a  heart,  and  an  immortal  soul. 

2.  You  will  notice  that  his  desire  for  these  Christians 
was,  that  they  might  be  comforted. 

8.  You  will  notice  that  the  mode  in  which  he  expected 
them  to  be  comforted,  embraced  two  things,  love,  that 
their  hearts  might  he  knit  together  in  love^  and,  UNDERSTAND- 
ING, i.  e.  knowledge,  the  desirableness  or  value  of  which 
he  expresses  by  speaking  of  all  riches  of  the  fall  assurance 
of  understanding.     By  this  love^  and  this  assured  and  rich 


MYSTERY   APPROPRIATE   IX   REDEMPTION.  193 

knowledge  of  the  Christian  system,  he  desired  that  be- 
lievers should  be  comforted.  He  supposed  they  had  some 
comfort ;  and,  by  growth  in  affection  and  knowledge,  he 
desired  they  should  have  more. 

4.  If  they  had  it,  he  supposed  it  would  lead  them  to 
the  acknowledgment  of,  i.  e.  to  the  avowed  confession  and 
glorying  in,  the  mystery  of  God,  even  of  the  Father  and  oj 
Christ.     And  then, 

5.  You  will  notice,  that,  having  mentioned  Christ  and 
mystery^  he  adds,  in  respect  to  Christ,  in  whom  are  hid  all 
the  treasures  of  wisdom  and  knowledge.  Of  the  Christian 
system  he  speaks  as  a  mystery^  and  yet  he  speaks  not  only 
of  an  acknowledgment  of  it,  but  of  the  riches  of  a  full 
assurance  of  understanding,  just  as  if  there  were  some  way 
of  coming  into  the  mystery,  and  he  speaks  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ  as  being  that  way — the  grand  treasury  of  the 
wisdom  of  God.     This  is  a  brief  exposition  of  the  text. 

There  are  other  texts  much  like  it.  In  1  Cor.  iv.  1,  he 
speaks  of  ministers  of  the  gospel  as  stewards  of  the  mys- 
teries of  Qod  ;  because  they  are  to  unfold  his  ni}' steries  to 
men,  teaching  them  Christianity.  In  1  Tim.  iii.  16,  this 
same  Apostle  affirms:  Great  is  the  mystery  of  godliness ; 
God  was  manifest  in  the  fleshy  justified  in  the  Spirit,  seen  of 
angels,  preached  unto  the  Gentiles,  helieved  on  in  the  world, 
received  up  into  glory. 

It  is  very  evident  that  the  redeeming  work  of  Christ  is 
the  special  matter  which  the  Apostle  has  in  his  mind, 
when  he  mentions  the  mystery  of  God,  and  that  he 
expects  believers  to  have  the  comfort  which  he  so  much 
desired  for  them,  just  by  a  full  assurance  of  understanding 
respecting  it,  or  by  an  established  and  intelligent  faith. 
It  would  be  easy  to  demonstrate,  were  it  necessary,  that 
just  Christian  comfort  is  to  be  attained  in  no  other  way. 

9 


194  MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE   IN  REDEMPTION. 

It  is  faith  whicTi  botli  establislies  and  purifies  tlie  heart. 
Thus  it  saves. 

When  the  Apostle  mentions  the  mystery  of  God^  I  sup- 
pose he  employs  the  word  mystery  in  its  general  New 
Testament  sense,  to  signify  that  which  is  wonderful,  or 
something  beyond  the  ordinary  manifestations  of  God, 
and  therefore  something  beyond  all  the  discoveries  of 
an  unaided  reason,  and  yet  (when  once  revealed  and 
understood  by  faith)  of  such  a  nature,  as  to  be  capable 
of  an  assurance  of  understanding^  so  that  a  believer  may 
justly  and  reasonably  make  an  acknowledgment  of  this 
mystery  of  Grod,  or,  in  other  words,  glory  in  the  cross  of 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

We  propose  to  attempt  this  subject.  We  propose  to 
show  that  the  mysteries  of  God^  the  wonders  of  redemption 
by  Christ,  have  their  excellency,  and  their  appropriate- 
ness, and  their  comforting  nature,  just  because  they  have 
this  cliaracter  of  mj^stery,  of  marvelousness,  of  some- 
thing beyond  all  the  range  of  nature  and  all  the  powers 
of  an  unaided  human  reasoning. 

I  have  often  been  struck  with  the  idea  that  the  difficul- 
ties and  objections  that  some  men  find  in  the  system  of 
our  religion,  and  on  account  of  which  they  tell  us  they 
find  it  hard  to  embrace  our  doctrines,  are  all  founded  on 
the  very  same  things  w^hich  make  true  believers  adhere 
to  the  system  with  most  confidence  and  most  comfort. 
The  very  things  which  have  been  objected  to,  as  unrea- 
sonable, or  as  hard  to  believe,  or  as  having  no  analogy 
in  all  other  works  and  ways  of  God,  are  the  very  things 
which,  to  the  believer,  make  Christianity  most  valuable. 
The  atonement  made  for  sinners  by  the  death  of  Christ, 
is  perhaps  the  most  signal  instance  of  difficulty.  Men 
have  said,  and  are  still  saying,  that  this  is  a  hard  matter 


MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE   IN   REDEMPTION.  195 

for  human  reason  to  believe.  That  God  should  inflict 
misery  and  death  upon  an  innocent  Christ,  and  on  that 
account  deliver  from  punishment  a  race  of  sinners — 
that  the  guiltless  should  be  put  into  the  place  of  the 
guilty — ^that  the  justice  which  condemned  some  should 
be  satisfied  with  a  substitute  whom  no  justice  could 
condemn — that  an  unchangeable  law  should  turn  aside 
its  penalty  from  its  manifest  violators,  and  should  pour 
out  its  dreadfulness  upon  Him  who  never  violated  it ; 
such  things  have  constituted  a  difficulty  and  a  ground  of 
objection  to  Christianity  with  thousands  of  human  reason- 
ers.  They  cannot  see  the  justice  of  this  transaction. 
They  cannot  conceive  how  law  is  thus  satisfied,  or  God 
thus  honored.  They  tell  us  that  this  is  a  transaction 
which  certainly  seems  contrary  to  all  human  notions  of 
retributive  justice,  and  certainly  finds  no  analogy  in  any 
thing  else  which  the  Lord  God  is  known  to  do — no 
analogy  in  nature. 

Perhaps  it  is  not  unnatural,  and  ought  to  be  expected, 
that  these  men  should  bring  up  these  objections,  and  be 
staggered  at  such  formidable  difficulties.  Two  causes 
•contribute  to  lead  to  this — their  principles,  and  their 
perceptions. 

First :  The  principles  of  these  men  are  all  principles 
gathered  on  other  subjects,  on  other  fields,  relate  to  other 
matters,  are  after  the  rudiments  of  the  world — as  the  eighth 
verse  has  i\r— philosophy  and  vain  deceit^  and  therefore 
ought  not  to  be  introduced  here,  as  fit  principles  of  judg- 
ment and  reasoning.  They  appeal  to  nature  ;  and  they 
ask  us,  where  in  nature  do  you  find  any  analogy  to  the 
atonement?  They  appeal  to  human  justice;  and  ask, 
where  among  all  the  decisions  of  a  respectable  jurispru- 
dence, or  among  all  the  sane  ideas  of  men  in  respect  to 


196  MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE   IN  REDEMPTION. 

retributive  justice,  can  you  point  to  any  tiling  whicli  re- 
sembles tlie  atonement  of  Christ  and  its  claimed  con- 
sequences? Nowhere^  we  rejoice  to  answer,  nowhere. 
And  we  remind  men  who  find  this  difficulty  in  their  way, 
that  when  they  come  up  to  the  subject  of  religion, 
they  enter  upon  a  matter  infinitely  higher  than  any 
mere  matter  of  nature,  of  human  jurisprudence,  or 
man's  injustice  to  man,  and,  therefore,  their  princi- 
ples— their  mere  philosophical  principles — which  may 
do  very  well  for  the  little  fields  of  this  world,  and 
its  life,  will  not  answer  for  them  on  the  higher  and 
wider  fields  of  religion.  But  they  are  all  the  principles 
they  have  got,  and  we  may  expect  them  to  use  them. 

Secondly :  The  perceptions  of  these  men  contribute  to 
their  embarrassment.  There  is  a  wide  difference  betwixt 
a  convicted  and  an  unconvicted  sinner.  With  one  who 
justly  sees  his  sins,  there  are  perceptions  about  character, 
and  condition,  and  unworthiness,  which  enter  much 
further  into  the  matter  than  any  perceptions  of  a  mere 
reasoner.  There  are  things  about  God,  about  his  holiness, 
and  the  dreadfulness  of  his  indignation,  perceived  very 
clearly  by  men  when  conscience  is  alarmed,  and  the  Holy 
Spirit  brings  the  light  of  truth  into  the  deep  recesses  of 
the  soul,  which  unconcerned  men  know  very  little  about. 
Till  they  have  more  just  perceptions,  and  those  more 
appropriate  to  the  great  subject-matter  of  religion,  it  is 
no  wonder  if  they  object  to  the  very  things  in  which  a 
believer  most  rejoices. 

If  you  will  attend  to  a  few  of  the  particulars  which 
we  are  going  to  name,  you  may  perceive,  by  even  an 
ordinary  reason,  as  I  think,  at  least  something  of  the  pro- 
prieties of  those  strange  wonders  for  which  nature  has 
no  analogy,  and  which  do  not  come  within  the  scope  of 


MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE  IN  REDEMPTION.  197 

mere  human  reasonings.  These  particulars  may  at  once  be 
comforting  to  the  Christian,  and  a  reproof  to  an  unbeliever. 
Men  are  staggered  by  the  mysteries  of  God;  such 
things  as  the  incarnation,  the  atonement,  the  justice  of 
Grod  satisfied  for  sinners  by  the  death  of  Christ. 

I.  Let  them  consider,  that  this  salvation  is  itself  a  high 
and  peculiar  matter.  There  is  nothing  else  like  it.  The 
affair  has  respect,  too,  to  the  high  and  aiuful  awards  of 
eternity.  An  immortal  soul  is  to  be  saved  or  lost. 
Heaven  is  built  for  it.  Hell  is  dug  for  it.  The  celestial 
inhabitants  of  another  world  are  bending  over  the  battle- 
ments of  heaven,  to  take  cognizance  of  the  mortal  beings 
who  are  soon  to  leave  this  world,  and  ready  to  rejoice  over 
one  sinner  that  repenteth.  The  devil  and  his  angels  wait 
amid  their  glooms  and  the  fire  prepared  for  them,  to  hail 
with  a  hellish  malignity  the  addition  to  their  companion- 
ship, to  be  made  when  a  sinner  dies  unforgiven.  Such 
is  the  matter  in  question. 

Now,  what  shall  we  say  in  respect  to  the  fit  modes  of 
meeting  its  high  and  awf al  exigences  ?  Will  any  ordi- 
nary procedure  do?  Will  it  be  reasonable  in  such  a 
case?  Will  it  suit  the  occasion?  Will  it  be  trust- 
worthy ?  An  immortality  is  periled !  An  eternity  is  at 
stake !  And  I  appeal  to  all  that  is  sense,  and  all  that  is 
sensibility,  if  it  is  not  wrong  to  bring  up  the  ordinary 
proceedings  of  this  little  world,  and  ordinary  principles 
and  practices  of  this  little  race  of  mortal  creatures,  and 
this  little  inch  of  time  to  meet  the  high  exigences  of  the 
case.  I  appeal  to  all  that  is  sense  and  sensibility,  if,  in 
such  a  case,  there  is  not  occasion  for  some  new  machinery 
or  movement,  some  grand,  and  peculiar,  and  unparalleled 
work  of  God,  which  shall  cope  with  the  natui-e  of  th« 


198  MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE   IN  REDEMPTION. 

matter  in  question — wliicli  shall  cope  with  all  the  gran- 
deur of  God,  and  the  grandeur  of  eternity,  and  throw  the 
strength  of  its  security  around  all  the  majesty  and  mag- 
nificence of  immortality.  We  ivant  the  atonement — we 
want  the  incarnation — want  the  wonders  of  the  crucifix- 
ion, the  resurrection,  all  the  miracles,  from  the  manger 
of  Bethlehem  to  the  ascension  from  Mount  Olivet.  "We 
want  something  which  goes  beyond  all  analogy,  and  all 
nature,  and  all  human  reason ;  else  the  mode  of  our 
salvation  cannot  correspond  with  the  salvation  itself,  and 
by  such  a  correspondence  confirm  our  reason,  and  com- 
fort our  hearts  with  the  confidence  that  God  himself  has 
undertaken  for  us. 

You  may  take  your  ordinary  principles,  and  analogies, 
and  reasonings  to  guide  you,  in  all  other  matters,  as  you 
will.  We  have  no  quarrel  with  you  about  that.  But 
when  we  come  to  a  matter  of  eternity,  of  immortal  life 
for  a  sinner,  or  everlasting  death  ;  both  our  understand- 
ing for  its  full  assurance^  and  our  heart  for  its  comfort^ 
demand  that  you  fling  your  analogies  to  the  winds,  and 
let  us  have  something  coming  out  of  the  mystery  of  God^ 
even  of  the  Father  and  of  Christy  which  shall  assort  with  the 
thing  to  be  done  for  a  sinner — with  all  the  deep  importance 
and  high  splendors  of  immortality.  The  salvation  of  a 
sinner  is  not  a  temporal  matter  to  be  provided  for — not 
any  earthly  exigency  to  be  met ;  and,  therefore,  the  plan 
that  shall  save  him  ought  to  rise  infinitely  above  the 
principles  of  mere  nature,  and  the  analogies  of  this  world, 
and  be  peculiar,  august,  and  grand,  as  his  hoped-for 
glory,  and  honor,  and  immortality. 

II.  In  this  matter  of  a  sinner's  salvation,  the  eternal 
God  himself  forms  a  special  part  of  the  question.     His 


MYSTERY  APPROPEIATE   IN   REDEMPTI0:N^.  199 

demands  are  to  be  met.  He  is  angry  with  sinners,  and 
his  anger  is  to  be  pacified.  We  should,  indeed,  have  a 
very  erroneous  idea  of  his  anger,  and  an  idea  derogatory 
to  his  character,  if  we  were  to  conceive  of  him  as  having 
an  anger  similar  to  the  anger  of  men.  His  anger  is  not 
passionate;  not  hasty,  and  agitating,  and  unseasonable; 
it  ruffles  no  composure ;  there  is  no  perturbation  about 
it.  It  is  cool,  calm,  determined,  reasonable,  and  there- 
fore the  more  dreadful.  It  moves  to  the  performance  of 
its  purposes  with  a  holy  and  settled  decision,  just,  inflexi- 
bly j  ust.  The  quarrel  which  a  sinner  has  with  God  is, 
therefore,  very  unlike  his  quarrel  with  any  other  antag- 
onist. God  cautions  him  of  this,  when  he  says  to  him, 
/  will  not  meet  thee  as  a  man.  The  most  awful  of  all  ideas, 
that  I  know  any  thing  about,  is  the  idea  of  the  anger  of 
God.  With  a  reasonable  creature,  every  hope  dies,  and 
every  joy  sinks  in  that  abyss  of  horror — God  his  enemy ! 
The  very  character  and  person  of  God  are  involved  in 
this  matter  of  a  sinner's  prospects. 

What,  then,  shall  be  done  for  such  a  sinner?  Will  you 
resort  for  an  answer  to  this  question,  to  those  systems  of 
justice  which  prevail  betwixt  man  and  his  equals,  and 
thence  determine  a  matter  which  lies  betwixt  man  and 
his  God  ?  Will  you  demand  that  this  high  and  awful 
business  shall  be  settled  on  principles  which  find  some 
analogy  among  the  little  interests,  and  on  the  little  fields, 
of  an  earthly  existence?  Impossible!  Absurd!  per- 
fectly absurd !  You  can  find  no  analogy  for  God — no 
analogy  for  the  anger  of  God.  You  can  not  fathom  the 
offence  against  sin  which  lies  in  the  depths  of  the  Divine 
mind,  and  your  puny  reason  can  not  touch  the  question, 
what  shall  pacify  it.  You  can  only  know,  that  the 
magnitude  of  the  recovery  must  assort  with  the  magni- 


200  MYSTERY   APPROPRIATE   IN   REDEMPTION. 

tude  of  God  ;  and,  therefore,  a  sinner  needs  for  his  salva- 
tion some  mighty  achievement,  some  untold  wonder 
Avhich  shall  be  able  to  cope  with  the  difficulty — the  anger 
of  God.  Who  can  tell  what  this  shall  be?  God  only 
can  tell.  Not  a  created  being  in  the  universe  could 
answer  the  question,  or  reason  about  it.  Christ  could 
answer  it,  because  he  was  God.  He  did  answer  it: 
a  hody  hast  thou  ^reipared  me.  Lo,  I  come  to  do  thy  will, 
oh  God ;  and  now  the  august  and  adorable  wonder  of 
the  sacrifice  just  assorts  with  the  magnitude  of  the  diffi- 
culty, and  thus  opens  a  highway  for  the  sinner  up  to  the 
very  favor  of  God.  The  Divinity  of  the  atonement  is 
the  foundation  of  its  efficacy.  Its  mystery,  its  adorable 
wonder,  its  being  something  beyond  all  the  analogies  of 
nature,  and  all  the  explanations  of  human  reason,  is  the 
very  thing  which  carries  its  efficacy  where  sinners  need 
it,  to  quench  that  anger  of  God  which  he  has  told  us 
hums  to  the  lowest  hell. 

III.  This  matter  of  salvation  has  most,  if  not  the 
whole  of  its  nature,  from  the  matter  of  sin.  It  must  save 
sinners.  Sin  is  the  strangest  thing,  save  one,  in  the 
universe.  Nothing  but  the  Christ  who  died  for  it  equals 
its  wonder.  It  is  an  infinite  marvel  how  a  holy  and 
almighty  God  could  ever  have  permitted  it  to  come  into 
existence.  It  seems  to  be  an  exception  in  the  universe — 
a  dark  exception  to  all  God's  other  permissions.  Its 
existence  is  an  infinite  wonder.  Why  did  not  God  pre- 
vent it,  if  he  could  ;  and  if  he  could  not,  where  was  his 
omnipotence?  If  he  did  not  choose  to  prevent  it,  where 
was  his  benevolence?  If  he  is  good,  where  slept  his 
goodness,  when  he  permitted  a  creature  of  his  own  for- 
mation to  ruin  himself  by  becoming  his  enemy  ?     Strange 


MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE  IN  REDEMPTION.  201 

questions !  Who  can  answer  tliem  ?  What  finite  mind 
can  grapple  witli  the  dark  grandeur  of  sucli  interrog- 
atories, which  have  respect  to  the  very  wonders  of  God  ? 
But  sin  is  here  :  strange  thing  as  it  is,  it  is  here.  Power- 
ful, holy,  and  benevolent  as  God  is,  sin  is  here.  Here  it 
has  begun  its  mischiefs,  loading  our  air  with  its  sighs,  and 
making  our  world  a  grave-yard ! 

Now,  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  on  an  occasion  like  this, 
what  shall  be  done  ?  Sin  is  to  be  met,  and  sin  is  an  in- 
finite mystery,  whose  very  existence  you  can  not  explain. 
And  in  such  a  case,  to  meet  the  demands  of  such  an  em- 
barrassment, to  come  in  upon  this  field  of  eternal  won- 
der, would  your  heart  be  satisfied,  your  reason  be  satis- 
fied, to  have  God  Almighty  do  nothing  more  than  he 
does  in  his  ordinary  government  over  the  world  ?  Must 
there  not  be  a  proportion  betwixt  the  thing  to  be  done, 
and  the  means  for  its  performance  ?  Would  you  send 
an  infant  to  lift  a  mountain  ?  would  you  expect  the  dew 
to  extinguish  a  volcano  ?  would  you  raise  your  puny  arm 
to  stop  a  hurricane  ?  If  God  had  not  gone  beyond  his 
other  performances  in  this  matter  of  sin,  this  eternal 
wonder,  you  could  not  trust  him,  for  you  would  not  be- 
lieve him  to  be  in  earnest,  or  that  his  means  met  the  de- 
mands of  the  occasion.  The  human  mind  seeks  a  pro- 
portion betwixt  means  and  ends ;  and,  if  the  wonders  of 
redemption  do  not  assort  with  the  wonders  of  sin's  ex- 
istence, they  are  insufiicient  to  grapple  with  the  difficult- 
ies of  the  case.  The  means  of  salvation  for  sinners  must 
be  able  to  carry  their  wonders  as  far  as  sin  carries  its 
wonders,  and,  among  graves  and  the  bones  of  the  dead, 
show  that  they  are  means  adequate  to  what  is  expected 
of  them  !  Yea,  they  must  be  such  as  to  be  able  to  carry 
their  wonders  up  to  the  very  character  of  God,  and  wipe 

9* 


202    MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE  IN   REDEMPTION". 

out  that  stain  upon  his  benevolence,  which  the  existence 
and  miseries  of  sin  seem  to  have  placed  there!  Oh, 
Deist!  oh,  materialist!  oh,  thou  fond  child  of  nature, 
striving  to  pick  up  among  the  analogies  of  this  world  a 
religion  which  shall  suit  you  and  save  you,  remember 
you  are  a  sinner :  look  on  a  corpse,  cast  your  eye  down 
to  a  grave's  depth,  and  tell  if  you  do  not  need  all  the 
wonders  of  God  in  an  atoning  redemption,  in  order  to  see 
light  in  that  grave's  depth,  and  see  life  coming  back  into 
the  cold  marble  of  that  corpse !  Give  me  the  Gospel,  its 
Christ  and  its  crucifixion,  and  I  can  see  that,  after  all 
sin's  strangeness  and  evils,  there  is  a  power  at  work 
which  shall  yet  show  that  sin  and  the  benevolence  of  the 
Deity  are  not  at  war  with  one  another ;  or,  if  they  are, 
that  the  benevolence  of  the  Deity  is,  after  all  sin's  doings, 
unstained  and  infinite,  and  shall  come  off  victorious. 
Give  me  the  wonders  of  the  Gospel,  and  I  can  see  that, 
when  I  stand  by  my  pious  friend  in  the  stragglings  of 
his  death-hour,  and  then  bear  his  corpse  to  the  land  of 
silence,  nothing  has  happened  to  him  which  shall  not 
be  good  for  him,  and  was  not  ordered  by  the  benevolence 
of  God.  He  shall  be  happier  in  heaven  eternally,  than 
if  he  had  never  been  a  sinner,  and  had  never  died  and 
been  buried.  The  wonders  of  sin  are  surpassed  by  the 
wonders  of  Christ.     Blessed  be  God. 

TV.  Sin  is  the  transgression  of  GocVs  Law.  God  has 
acted  as  an  infinite  moral  Legislator,  and  thus  committed 
himself  in  the  sight  of  a  universe  of  intelligent  creatures. 
Law  is  a  matter  of  inconceivable  moment.  Obedience  to 
it  among  men  is  the  grand  means  for  securing  earthly 
interests;  and  Law  is  the  security  of  heaven.  "  Its  seat 
is  the  bosom  of  God."     Every  one  of  its  enactments  pro- 


MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE  IN  REDEMPTION.  203 

ceeds  from  his  infinite  benevolence.  His  government  is 
just  one  of  the  workings  of  his  infinite  good- will  towards 
his  creatures.  But  sin  has  violated  his  law,  and  on  his 
veracity,  as  the  guardian  of  his  universe,  he  is  committed 
to  sustain  it. 

What,  then,  shall  be  done?  This  sin  is  not  a  mere 
matter  of  acting  contrary  to  human  enactments  and 
human  relationships — it  is  a  matter  of  acting  against  the 
relationship  which  a  sinner  sustains  to  God,  and  against 
the  duties  which  bear  on  the  destiny  of  his  whole  eter- 
nity. No  mind  can  gauge  the  dimensions  of  importance 
which  belong  to  this  violated  law.  And,  therefore, 
does  it  belong  to  human  reason  to  contrive  any  means 
which  shall  save  the  sinner  and  not  tarnish  the  law? 
Since  all  the  stretch  of  human  reason  can  not  measure 
the  importance  of  the  law  of  God  which  sin  violates, 
does  not  reason  itself  demand  that  something  shall  be 
done  (if  a  sinner  is  to  be  saved)  which  reason  itself  can 
not  comprehend  ;  something  which  shall  be  able  to  reach 
as  far  as  law  reaches,  and  carry  its  influences  as  far  as 
sin  could  carry  its  consequences,  and  thus  cope  with  all 
the  magnitude  of  that  difficulty  in  which  a  sinner  is 
floundering,  when  the  thunder  of  God's  law  is  out 
against  him,  to  guard  God's  rights,  and  the  eternal  weal 
of  God's  creatures  ?  I  declare  to  you,  if  I  have  an  item 
of  understanding,  a  single  ray  of  reason,  I  can  not  con- 
ceive how  any  reasonable  being  could  rest  his  hope  of 
escape  from  the  eternal  penalty  (if  he  is  a  sinner)  on  any 
thing  which  should  not  stretch  itself  beyond  his  compre- 
hension, and  put  on  the  character  of  an  eternal  wonder, 
a  mystery  of  God.  If  I  could  e:j^plain  the  atonement,  I 
should  spoil  it  I  I  want  it  to  be  an  inexplicable  wonder. 
I  want  it  to  reach  sin's  evil.     I  want  it  to  satisfy  God's 


204  MYSTERY   APPROPRIATE   IN   REDEMPTION. 

law.  I  want  it  to  silence  God's  thunders  not  only,  but 
turn  them  all  in  mj  favor,  and  let  every  one  of  my 
enemies  know,  that,  if  he  touches  me,  he  touches  the 
apple  of  God's  eye.  My  reason  demands  miracles  in  this 
awfully  gi\and  matter.  It  welcomes,  it  hails  the  miracle 
of  the  Incarnation,  of  Gethsemane,  of  the  Crucifixion,  of 
the  announced  Atonement,  of  a  Law  honored  by  a  Sub- 
stitute, and  a  sinner  saved  by  the  blood  of  another.  My 
God  here  is  like  God,  an  infinite  and  eternal  wonder,  in- 
conceivably great  and  inconceivably  good !  Praise  him  ! 
oh  my  soul,  praise  him !  Earth,  a  world  of  sinners, 
praise  him !  His  redemption  copes  with  the  grandeur 
of  his  government,  and  brings  the  aids  of  its  security  to 
a  sinner  who  deserves  eternal  wrath  ! 

V.  This  business  of  a  sinner's  salvation  stands  con- 
nected with  God's  honor  and  glory  as  a  moral  governor  : 
sin  is  against  his  moral  government,  and  therefore  comes 
into  conflict  with  the  highest  department  of  his  glory. 
The  essential  glory  of  God,  indeed,  remains  ever  the 
same,  and  nothing  can  ever  conflict  with  it.  But  his 
declarative  glory,  or  that  excellency  and  honor  which 
his  intelligent  creatures  can  perceive  to  belong  to  him 
on  account  of  his  works,  has  different  degrees  belonging 
to  it,  and  may  be  greater  or  less  according  to  the  nature 
of  bis  operations  intelligently  perceived  and  contem- 
plated. In  the  works  of  nature,  as  we  call  them,  we 
have  some  of  these  different  things  which  honor  him  in 
different  degrees.  He  himself  often  appeals  to  them.  The 
mountains  ivhich  he  lueigheth  in  scales  and  the  hills  in  a  bal- 
ance, and  the  isles  which  he  taketh  -up  as  a  very  little  thing,  are 
manifestations  and  claims  of  an  honor  which  belongs  to 
him.     A  still  higher  honor  is  his  due,  when  he  gives  life  to 


MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE   IN   REDEMPTION.  205 

matter,  clotbes  the  grass  of  the  field  with  its  green,  paints 
the  lilies  of  the  field,  and  animates  the  wild-bird  that 
carols  on  the  wing.  His  honor  rises  still  higher  when  he 
gifts  with  intelligence  and  reason,  malceth  his  angels 
spirits,  and  man  capable  of  studying  his  works.  But  his 
highest  glory  lies  in  none  of  these.  He  is  a  moral  gov- 
ernor. He  is  a  holy  God.  There,  on  that  field,  in  that 
department,  above  mere  matter,  mountains  and  seas — 
above  the  high  kingdom  of  intelligence,  and  in  the  de- 
partment of  right  and  wrong,  of  moral  beauty  and  ex- 
cellency, there  lies  the  most  valuable  of  God's  declarative 
glory.  Nature  is  but  a  subordinate  system.  Nature 
must  give  way  to  moral  purposes.  "  The  Ked  Sea  must 
give  way :  Sinai  must  tremble :  the  sun  must  stand 
still :  the  widow's  cruise  of  oil  and  barrel  of  meal  must 
forget  to  diminish,  and  dead  men  must  leajo  into  life,  if 
the  moral  purposes  of  God  demand  it.  Scholars  would 
do  well  to  remember  this,  and  remember  how,  in  all 
God's  moral  dealings  with  men,  he  has  steadily  shown 
that  even  the  ways  and  laws  of  Nature  shall  stop,  if  a 
moral  purpose  require  it.  God  puts  all  such  things  sub- 
ordinate to  something  higher,  and  scholars  have  no  right 
to  reason  on  what  they  may  find  in  nature,  as  if  nothing 
but  natural  laws,  in  common  operation,  had  any  thing 
to  do  with  it — as  if  Chemistry,  and  Botany,  and  crys- 
tallization, and  air,  and  fire,  and  water,  were  of  such 
station  that  they  must  act  only  on  their  own  common 
laws.  They  shall  all  act  for  God's  moral  purposes.  Let 
geologists  remember  it. 

And  now,  when  sin  is  a  matter  which  comes  in  upon 
this  moral  department  of  God's  empire,  where  lies  the 
highest  glory  of  God  ;  when  a  sinner  is  to  be  saved 
whose  sin  has  dishonored  God  on  this  high  ground,  is 


206         MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE    IN  REDEMPTIOIS^     * 

there  not  a  demand  for  something  high  above  all  the 
analogies  of  nature,  and  fully  coordinate  with  the  high 
majesty  of  God  ?  Give  me  only  something  which  shall 
assort  with  nature  to  save  me,  or  something  which  shall 
assort  with  the  kingdom  of  mind ;  and,  however  grand 
it  may  be,  you  have  not  touched  even  the  borders  of  that 
field,  that  moral  field,  on  which  sin  does  its  dishonor  to 
the  Deity.  There  is  a  seen  and  felt  necessity  of  some- 
thing beyond — something  which  shall  bear  a  proportion 
to  the  wonder  of  sin's  malignity,  and,  by  its  inconceiv- 
able greatness,  carry  relief  to  God's  honor,  and  fling  the 
grandeur  of  its  security  around  the  sinner  who  hath 
touched  that  awful  thing.  Come,  wonder — come,  mys- 
tery of  God — come,  Immanuel  God  ivith  us — welcome, 
Christ,  Calvary,  the  crucifixion,  the  vinegar  and  the  gall, 
the  death-groans  of  the  Son  of  God :  your  wonders, 
miracles,  every  one,  are  needed  to  show  that  God  can  he 
just  and  yet  justify  the  sinner  who  has  dishonored  the 
highest  matter  of  his  majesty ! 

YI.  I  have  only  one  point  more.  It  relates  to  affec- 
tion — ^human  affection.  You  know  that  in  affection  lies 
the  very  essence  of  religion.  Men  must  love  God.  Sin 
has  estranged  their  affections  from  him,  and,  if  they  can 
not  be  won  back  to  him,  the  sinner  can  not  be  saved. 
What  shall  win  them  back?  On  what  ground  can  a 
sinner  ever  be  led  to  repose  such  confidence  in  God,  that 
his  heart  shall  yield  him  its  love  ?  What  shall  the  Lord 
God  do  which  shall  avail  to  convince  a  sinner  that  God 
still  loves  him,  especially  when  here  he  has  so  many 
miseries  to  suffer  which  he  knows  can  not  cease,  till  he 
sleeps  in  his  winding  sheet  ?  Examine  affection  for  a 
moment :  think  of  the  nature  of  love.     There  is  nothing 


MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE   IN  REDEMPTION.  207 

SO  tender  as  aifectioc,  nothing  so  delicate,  nothing  so  de- 
manding. It  looks  on  its  object  with  a  scrutiny  which 
nothing  escapes  ;  no  little  thing — no  trifle.  It  wants  the 
heart,  the  whole  heart.  It  wants  evidence  that  the  heart 
requites  love,  or  love  can  not  be  satisfied.  An  affection- 
ate wife  wants  this  evidence  in  her  husband.  It  is  not 
what  he  shall  do  for  her;  she  does  not  care  so  much 
about  that,  if  he  only  does  the  best  he  can,  and  requites 
her  love.  If  she  is  sure  of  his  heart,  that  is  enough. 
With  happy  heart  she  will  share  his  cabin,  his  cave,  his 
scanty  morsel,  without  a  murmur,  if  she  only  knows  he 
loves  her.  But  she  must  have  his  heart :  it  is  at  once 
her  right  and  her  necessity.  Without  it  she  can  not  con- 
fide in  him  and  be  happy.  Such  is  the  nature  of  affec- 
tion. 

And  now,  when  a  sinner's  affections  are  estranged 
from  God,  and  need  to  be  attracted  back  to  him — when 
sin  makes  him  suspicious,  and  an  accusing  conscience 
makes  him  distrustful  of  God — when  the  affections, 
the  most  sensitive  and  tender  of  all  things,  and  which 
can  not  bear  a  single  item  of  doubting,  are  to  be 
influenced — what  shall  be  done,  what  shall  God  do 
to  convince  a  sinner  that  he  loves  him? — to  lay  a 
foundation,  of  confidence  for  a  heart  whose  delicacy 
and  hesitancy  are  such  that  a  single  item  of  doubt 
or  difficulty  would  be  an  eternal  barrier,  and  would 
fling  a  sinner  into  despair,  instead  of  attracting  his 
faith  and  his  love?  Something  must  be  done,  of 
more  than  ordinary  character.  Some  demonstration  of 
God's  kindness  and  love  must  be  made,  which  shall  defy 
doubt,  and  meet  the  timid  delicacy  of  an  indescribable 
fearfulness.  Well,  God  has  done  the  best  he  could ! — 
just  what  love  wants — the  best  he.  could!     He  has  sur- 


208  MYSTERY  APPROPRIATE   IN  REDEMPTION. 

passed  herein  all  his  other  wonders.  He  has  put  his 
own  Son  into  human  flesh — into  the  Ijiw- place  of  sin- 
ners ;  he  has  held  him  to  the  penalty  of  death  on  their 
account ;  and  if,  in  order  to  be  convinced  of  God's  love, 
your  heart  demands  the  most  precious  of  God's  things, 
you  have  had  it — he  has  withholden  nothing.  If  you 
could  possibly  conceive  of  any  thing  which  God  could 
possibly  do  for  you  more — if  you  saw  God  staggered  at 
any  thing,  holding  back  any  thing,  refusing  any  thing, 
you  might  feel  that  something  was  wanting  in  your 
ground  of  confidence,  when  your  poor  soul  would  rise  to 
peace  and  love  with  God,  and  enter  into  the  high  sacred- 
ness  of  his  eternal  fellowship  as  a  loved  child,  your 
home  the  bosom  of  God.  But  you  have  no  occasion  to 
feel  so  now.  Demanding  as  your  love  may  be,  it  has 
got  all  that  it  can  demand.  God  has  done  what  he 
could.  He  has  held  back  nothing.  The  matchless  won- 
ders of  redemption  have  unfolded  to  you  his  heart,  and 
to-day  claim  your  own.  These  ideas  ought  to  be  suffi- 
cient for  the  full  assurance  of  understanding,  to  the  acknoiul- 
edgment  of  the  mystery  of  God,  even  of  the  Father,  and  of 
Christ,  in  whom  are  hid  all  the  treasures  of  wisdom  and 
knowledge. 

Communicants,  you  have  high  and  adorable  reason  to 
have  your  hearts  comforted.  God  has  done  wonders  for 
you  which  surpass  all  his  other  wonders.  Be  of  good 
courage.  What  have  you  to  fear?  "What  shall  make 
you  hesitate  to  open  your  heart  to  God  when  God 
opens  his  heart  to  you  ?  What  shall  make  you  afraid 
to  come  to  him,  as  friend  meets  friend,  and  brother 
meets  brother,  and  enter  with  all  sweet  and  blessed 
confidence  into  the  sacred  intimacy  of  his  fellow- 
ship?    Stir  up  all  your  faith.     Call  all  your  sweetest, 


MYSTERY   APPROPRIATE   IN   REDEMPTION.  209 

tenderest  and  most  confiding  love  into  exercise.  Come 
near  to  your  soliciting  God,  who,  with  the  amazing 
wonders  of  his  love,  aims  to  win  your  own.  Tax  your 
heart  to  make  itself  large  enough  to  take  in  the  over- 
flowing kindness  of  God.  Consent  to  be  his  child,  his 
humble,  happy  child.  This  is  what  he  wants  of  you. 
Shall  he  not  have  it  ?  Will  you  not  love  him  ?  Will 
you  not  confide  in  him  ?  Will  you  not  consent  to  dis- 
miss every  doubt,  hush  every  fear,  and  be  as  happy  as 
God  wants  you  to  be,  on  the  high  ground  of  your  glo- 
rious redemption?  Be  assured  you  honor  God  most, 
you  please  him  best,  when  you  take  his  Divine  comforts 
most  fully  to  your  soul,  sprinkled,  and  guarded,  and 
sealed  by  the  blood  of  the  great  atonement.  I  know 
that  there  is  something  terrible  in  being  a  sinner,  but  all 
that  terror  is  most  triumphantly  met  by  what  God  has 
done  for  you.  I  know  that  some  fearful  things  are 
before  you  which  may  well  make  nature  shudder — death, 
the  grave,  the  judgment,  to  all  which  you  must  come, 
are  solemn  and  awful  realities.  But  you  will  not  come 
to  them  alone.  Christ  will  come  with  you.  He  will 
take  you  out  of  the  arms  of  your  friends,  to  bear 
you  to  the  house  provided  for  you.  He  will  set  his 
seal  upon  your  grave,  and  claim  your  reanimated  dust  in 
the  day  of  the  general  resurrection.  He  will  claim  you 
when  the  hooks  are  oiiened^  and  crown  you  with  immortal- 
ity. Be  not  afraid.  Eat  that  bread,  and  drink  that  cup 
with  holy,  solemn,  happy  love. 

But  who  are  these  that  turn  their  backs  upon  the 
table  of  the  Lord?  Why  do  they  thus?  If  God  has 
wrought  such  wonders  to  redeem  sinners — if  herein  he 
has  embarked  all  his  love — what  shall  become  of  those 
whose  cold  hearts  this  love  can  not  win  ?     Oh !  sinner, 


210  MYSTEKY  APPEOPRIATE  IN  REDEMPTION. 

if  the  demonstrations  of  the  appropriateness  of  this 
redemption  to  the  wants  of  your  immortal  soul  can  not 
convince  your  understanding — if  the  adorable  love 
which  prompted  it  can  not  affect  your  heart — I  do  not 
know  what  you  can  expect.  Nature  can  furnish  you  no 
aid,  and  Grod  has  nothing  more  to  offer  you !  Dark  and 
dismal  are  your  prospects !  Dreadful  is  the  cloud  that 
hangs  over  all  your  eternity !  It  need  not  be  so  with 
you.  I  beseech  you  by  all  that  is  sacred — by  the  won- 
ders of  God,  and  all  the  solemnities  of  eternity — let  the 
recollection  of  that  seat  whicli  you  leave  vacant  at  the 
communion  table  to-day  follow  you ;  and,  if  you  live  till 
another  such  season,  come  and  occupy  it,  a  penitent  and 
believing  sinner,  a  happy  child  of  God,  and  an  heir  of 
immortal  life. 

May  the  God  of  mercy  bring  you  to  this.     Amen. 


f  ^pl  u)i  i^tongelicnl  |itstiftcati0ii;  gisthipisIrA, 

That  no  man  Ls  justified  by  the  law  in  the  sight  of  God,  it  is  evident,  for  the 
just  shall  live  by  faith. — Galatians,  iii.  11. 

rjlHERE  is  something  strange  in  that  principle  of 
-*-  human  nature  which  leads  us  to  be  most  ignorant  of 
things  most  easily  known.  But  this  is  common.  We 
often  wonder  at  the  want  of  knowledge  discoverable  in 
those  who  have  the  best  means  for  attaining  it.  This  is 
true  not  only  in  religion,  but  in  every  thing  else.  The 
man  who  has  the  daily  opportunity  of  learning,  and 
knows  he  can  learn  whenever  he  desires  to  do  it,  rests 
contented  in  his  ignorance.  He  satisfies  himself  with 
the  reflection  that  he  is  not  debarred  from  knowledge — 
he  can  attain  it  w^henever  he  will.  The  man  who  lives 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  most  wonderful  curiosities, 
the  most  towering  mountains,  lifting  their  granite  battle- 
ments into  the  region  of  eternal  frost,  the  most  stupen- 
dous cataracts  or  deepest  caverns,  lives  on  from  year  to 
year  with  little  desire  to  visit  them.  He  can  do  it  with 
ease,  and  is  therefore  indifferent.  Place  some  obstacle 
in  his  way,  render  it  difQ.cult  for  him  to  gratify  his  curi- 
osity, and  his  indifference  vanishes;  his  desires  are 
excited  by  the  very  obstacles  to  their  gratification. 

This  is  a  very  common  principle  of  human  nature, 
and  is  often  remarked.     And  it  is  this  which  does  much 


212  LEGAL  AND   EVANGELICAL 

to  keep  men  in  ignorance  on  the  plainest  topics  of  Chris- 
tianity, and  consequently  renders  it  necessary  for  the 
preacher  to  guard  against  presuming  too  much  on  the 
knowledge  of  his  hearers.  It  is  this  which  often  forces 
him  to  define  and  explain,  when  definition  and  explana- 
tion seem  almost  unnecessary,  and  are  pretty  sure  to  be 
regarded  as  uninteresting  and  dry. 

There  is  another  reason  for  this  humble  procedure  in 
teaching  the  truth.  We  are  ignorant  of  many  things 
we  ought  to  know,  merely  from  the  supposition  that  we 
know  them  well.  We  have  had  them  taught  and 
explained  to  us  from  our  childhood.  We  have  our- 
selves learnt  to  talk  of  them,  and  perhaps  begun  to  prac- 
tice upon  them,  and  therefore  suppose  we  are  not  igno- 
rant and  in  any  danger  of  error.  The  truth  is,  we  have 
a  general  notion,  but  not  a  particular  one,  of  many  sub- 
jects about  which  we  converse,  and  with  which  we  sap- 
pose  ourselves  well  acquainted.  Our  general  idea  may 
be  correct,  while,  at  the  same  time,  it  is  too  general  to 
be  secure — we  may  not  be  able  to  give  it  a  just  particu- 
lar application.  Often  this  is  the  case  in  religion.  We 
have  heard  of  faith,  hope  and  love  all  our  days,  of  the 
just  and  the  unjust,  of  repentance,  and  holy  zeal,  and 
charity — we  have  learnt  to  use  these  words  and  converse 
about  these  things,  and  therefore  we  are  led  to  suppose 
we  understand  them  well,  while  in  reality  our  knowl- 
edge of  them  is  extremely  small.  And  because  we  sup- 
pose we  understand  them,  we  are  impatient  in  listening 
to  them — we  think  our  preachers  insult  our  understand- 
ings, and  treat  us  as  novices. 

The  great  evil  that  arises  from  this  is,  that  when  we 
come  to  give  our  principles  an  application^  we  err.  This 
is  inevitable.     For  our  knowledge  is  only  general,  and 


JUSTIFICATION  DISTINGUISHED.  213 

is  not,  tlierefore,  fitted  for  particular  application;  and 
we  have  neglected  to  make  our  knowledge  more  special 
under  tlie  influence  of  the  impression  that  we  did  not 
need  it. 

This  limitation  of  our  real  knowledge,  and  the  evils 
naturally  arising  from  it,  render  it  necessary  to  define, 
and  specify,  and  apply,  when  treating  of  even  the  most 
common  subjects.     Hence  the  plan  of  this  discourse. 

We  will  explain  the  terms  of  the  text,  and  its  proposi- 
tions^ in  their  general  significance.  And  we  will  connect 
with  these  explanations  those  particular  ideas  and  spe- 
cific applications  necessary  to  render  our  knowledge 
secure ;  and  will  attempt  to  show  how,  for  the  want  of 
these  particulars,  we  are  exposed  to  run  into  danger- 
ous errors  and  delusions.  This  is  the  plan  we  shall 
pursue. 

No  man  is  justified  hy  the  law.  .  .  .  The  just  shall  live 
by  faith.  Here  two  kinds  of  justification  are  spoken  of: 
justification  by  the  Law  (which  the  Apostle  rejects),  and 
justification  by  Faith  (which  he  espouses,  or  adopts), 
through  which  he  tells  us  the  just  shall  live. 

What  are  we  to  understand  by  Justification  by  the 
Law  f 

The  man  who  seeks  justification  in  this  method, 
approaches  God  directly ;  he  relies  on  his  own  character ; 
he  puts  himself  on  trial,  and  claims  to  receive  salvation 
as  a  merited  reward.  According  to  the  character  of  the 
law  of  God,  he  consents  to  be  judged.  Perhaps  he  con- 
fesses some  sin — perhaps  he  acknowledges  he  has  in 
many  points  violated  the  law ;  but  he  brings  up  argu- 
ments from  the  other  side;  he  counts  over  his  good 
works,  and  presents  them  as  an  offset  to  compensate  for 
his  transgressions.     He  places  his  goodness  in  a  balance 


214  LEGAL  AND  EVANGELICAL 

against  his  iniquities^  and  fancies  that  it  weighs  them 
down.  He  keeps  a  book  of  debt  and  credit  with  his 
Maker ;  and  when  he  strikes  the  balance  claims  salva- 
tion as  his  pay. 

This  is  the  general  principle  on  which  he  proceeds 
who  is  seeking  justification  by  the  law. 

There  are  several  particulars  into  which  this  general 
principle  enters,  and  the  individual  sometimes  proceeds 
on  one  of  these  particulars,  and  sometimes  on  another. 

At  one  time  he  relies  upon  the  good  he  has  done.  He 
may  be  sensible  that  he  has  done  some  evil,  but,  on  the 
whole,  he  thinks  he  has  done  more  good  than  hurt,  and 
therefore  must  be  saved. 

At  another  time  his  repentance  is  placed  in  the  scale 
against  his  sins,  and  he  claims  salvation  because  he  has 
been  so  good  as  to  repent  and  be  sorry  for  his  iniquities. 
When  he  is  doing  this,  he  is  often  entirely  insensible 
that  he  is  claiming  justification  by  the  law.  He  thinks 
himself  a  sinner  and  acknowledges  it,  and  therefore 
supposes  he  is  not  pretending  to  be  just  with  God. 
But  he  is.  All  this  while  he  is  relying  upon  his  repent- 
ance to  be  a  compensation  for  his  sins,  and  is  claiming 
to  be,  on  the  whole,  more  worthy  of  life  than  of  death. 

At  another  time  his  humility  and  self  ahasement  are 
brought  in  to  be  an  off-set  for  his  sins.  He  humbles 
himself,  as  he  imagines,  to  a  most  holy  degree.  He 
places  himself,  as  more  low,  and  mean,  and  worthless, 
than  the  least  of  God's  creatures ;  and  because  he  is  so 
self  abased  and  dependent,  thinks  God  is  under  obliga- 
tion to  save  him.  He  has  placed  himself  in  the  dust, 
and  asks,  what  can  he  do  more?  All  this  time  he 
knows  not  that  it  is  his  pride  which  has  placed  him  there, 
and  never  imagines  that  he  is  claiming  justification  by 


JUSTIFICATION  DISTINGUISHED.  215 

the  law,  because  he  confesses  he  has  broken  it.  But  all 
this  time  he  is  relying  upon  his  confessions  and  humility 
to  make  satisfaction  for  sins,  and  claiming  to  be,  on  the 
whole,  more  worthy  of  life  than  of  death. 

In  these,  and  a  thousand  other  methods,  men  are  left 
to  seek  justification  by  tlie  law  without  suspecting  their 
error.  They  not  only  throw  in  their  good  works,  but 
throw  in  their  graces,  to  bring  their  Maker  in  debt  to 
them. 

It  matters  not  what  particulaks  men  present  in  their 
own  behalf  They  may  plead  their  good  works,  or  they 
may  plead  their  graces ;  it  is  all  the  same.  They  may 
talk  of  their  being  full  of  love  and  zeal ;  they  may 
boast  of  being  altogether  spiritual,  and  ardent,  and 
engaged  in  religion ;  they  may  tell  of  their  orthodoxy  ; 
they  may  tell  how  they  live  nigh  to  God,  and  how 
bright  and  strong  are  the  graces  that  burn  in  their 
bosom;  and  all  this  only  shows  them  to  be  deceived, 
and  blinded,  and  in  danger.  They  are  keeping  an  ac- 
count-current with  their  Maker;  they  are  self-confident, 
and  proud  of  their  graces ;  they  are  really  seeking  to  be 
justified  by  the  Law  in  the  sight  of  God.  Whenever  men 
approach  God  directly^  and  put  their  whole  character, 
their  sins,  their  good  purposes,  and  good  works,  and 
graces  on  trial,  to  stand  or  fall,  according  as  the  balance 
shall  be  for  or  against  them — then  they  are  seeking  justi- 
fication hy  Law. 

And  now,  in  order  to  bring  the  principle  and  its 
application  side  by  side,  let  us  ask  ourselves  if  there  is 
not  reason  to  fear  that  many  do  this  who  little  suspect 
it  ?  We  speak  not  of  those  who  put  in  their  innocence, 
their  good  works,  their  common  morals,  as  their  claim 
for  salvation  ;  we  speak  not  of  those  who  deny  the  Deity 


216  LEGAL  AND  EVANGELICAL 

of  Christ,  and  consequently  destroy  the  whole  of  his 
atonement,  taking  him  only  as  an  example  in  godliness, 
and  claiming  salvation  because  they  pretend  to  follow  it, 
and  to  be  fit  for  heaven.  These  are  manifestly  expecting 
justification  in  that  way  in  which  the  Apostle  tells  us 
no  man  shall  hQ  justified  in  the  sight  of  God.  But  we  now 
speak  of  those  whose  error  is  more  secret  and  obscure  ; 
of  those  who  do  not  pretend  to  be  j  ust  before  God ;  of 
those  who  confess  their  sins,  and  think  themselves  peni- 
tent and  humble,  and  having  no  thought  of  being  justified 
by  law.  And  have  we  not  reason  to  fear  that  too  many, 
even  of  these,  have  mistaken  the  foundation  on  which  they 
are  building  ?  and  too  many  of  those  who  are  Christians 
indeed  have  mistaken  the  nature  of  Christianity  so  much, 
as  to  be  ignorantly  running  into  the  same  error  in  some 
of  their  practices  and  some  of  their  feelings?  K  this  is 
not  the  case,  I  ask,  whence  comes  it,  that  we  hear  of  pro- 
fessing Christians  rejoicing  so  much  in  their  own  graces? 
Why  are  they  sometimes  so  happy  in  thinking  of  their 
own  zeal,  and  ardor,  and  love,  and  thus  gathering  their 
joy  from  their  own  hearts  ?  Will  not  the  rejoicing  of 
the  individual  arise  from  that  source  whence  he  expects 
his  j  ustification  ?  I  wish  you  to  contemplate  this  ques- 
tion ;  will  not  the  rejoicing  of  the  individual  arise  from 
the  same  source  whence  he  expects  his  justification? 
Does  not  the  proud  moralist,  who  expects  salvation  by 
his  own  merits,  derive  his  satisfaction  from  contemplating 
his  morality  ?  Does  he  not  dwell  upon  it,  and  rejoice 
over  it  as  his  title  to  heaven  ?  Does  not  the  deluded 
heathen,  who  expects  to  propitiate  his  gods  by  the  ofier- 
ings  and  sacrifices  he  presents,  derive  his  satisfaction 
from  the  idea  of  those  sacrifices?  Docs  he  not  rejoice 
over  them  as  the  foundation  of  his  hopes  ?  (if,  indeed, 


JUSTIFICATION   DISTINGUISHED.  217 

lie  can  be  sufficiently  deluded  to  rejoice  at  all.)  And 
is  it  not  universally  the  case,  tliat  the  joy  and  satisfac- 
tion of  the  individual  will  arise  from  the  contemplation 
of  that  source  whence  he  expects  his  justification  ? 

What  shall  we  say,  then,  of  those  people  who  rejoice 
in  their  onere  feelings  ?  who  look  into  their  hearts,  (with 
an  Arminian  eye,)  and  tell  us  how  full  they  are  of  the 
fruits  of  the  Spirit?  whose  rejoicing  arises  from  contem- 
plating the  mere  feelings  of  their  heart  ?  who  boast  of 
being  wholly  in  the  Spirit,  and  full  of  grace?  Since 
their  rejoicing  is  in  themselves^  I  can  not  see  why  they 
are  not  expecting  justification  in  themselves.  Probably 
they  do  not  know  it.  Probably  they  have  never  once 
suspected  it.  But  since  their  joy  rises  from  the  con- 
templation of  their  graces^  I  can  not  understand  why 
they  are  not  as  much  expecting  justification  from  their 
graces,  as  the  moralist  is  from  his  morals,  or  the  heathen 
from  his  offerings !  I  see  not  but  they  are  presenting 
their  graces  in  which  they  rejoice,  their  love,  zeal,  and 
prayers,  as  the  offset  for  their  sins,  and  their  title  to 
heaven  ?  It  is  to  be  feared,  that  there  is  very  much  of 
this  bribing  heaven  in  the  world  !  We  know  that  many 
are  seeking  justification  by  the  law,  who  confess  them- 
selves sinners ;  but  who  plead,  that,  on  the  whole,  there 
is  more  good  than  bad  about  them.  And  there  is  reason 
to  fear  that  others,  who  confess  themselves  sinners,  are 
expecting  justification  bylaw,  when  they  are  rejoicing  in 
their  hearts  merely,  and  thinking  how  evangelical,  how 
zealous,  and  prayerful  they  are.  Surely  there  is  no  im- 
possibility in  this.  We  may  as  easily  offer  our  peni- 
tence, our  faith,  our  zeal,  and  our  prayers,  as  a  compen- 
sation for  our  sins,  as  we  can  offer  our  morality  or  our 
sacrifices.      And   when  we  gather  our  joy  from  these 

10 


218  LEGAL  AND  EVANGELICAL 

acts  of  penitence,  and  faitli,  and  zeal,  thinking  how  good 
they  are  ;  when  we  take  our  comfort  from  the  idea  that 
we  have  a  great  deal  of  religion^  I  can  not  understand 
why  we  are  not  relying  upon  these  things  to  be  just 
before  God  :   God,  I  thank  thee  that  I  am  not  as  other  men. 

If  people  look  into  their  own  hearts  and  examine  their 
experiences,  only  to  prove  whether  they  are  Christians 
or  not,  only  to  exaiinine  themselves  whether  they  he  in  the 
faith ^  they  are  doing  only  as  they  ought  to  do,  they  are 
acting  wisely.  But  when  they  are  looking  into  their 
hearts  to  find  how  good  they  are — ^to  live  upon  their  ex- 
periences— (as  the  old  Divines  used  to  say,  "to  feed  upon 
experience  ") — to  find  their  religious  rejoicing  in  the  ex- 
cellence of  their  graces,  they  are  acting  unwisely,  they 
are  deluded,  and  in  danger. 

And  we  have  heard  of  those  who  found  abundant  joy 
in  themselves ;  who  were  so  deceived  in  this  matter,  that 
they  imagined  they  were  full  of  grace,  and  piety,  and 
spiritual  life,  and  felt  entirely  happy  in  themselves!  Sink, 
sink  thyself  in  the  dust,  deluded  sinner !  Lift  up  thy 
voice  in  lamentations,  and  cry  for  mercy !  Grace  never 
yet  made  a  child  of  God  to  rejoice  in  the  perfection  of 
his  graces ;  and  thou  couldst  present  no  stronger  proof 
that  thou  hast  little  grace,  than  the  confidence  that  thou 
hast  so  much.  If  thou  wert  near  to  God  in  the  exercise 
of  spiritual  affection,  thou  wouldst  see  thy  deficiencies ; 
thine  unholy  heart  would  be  the  burden  of  thy  comj)laint, 
instead  of  the  source  of  thy  rejoicing ;  and  thy  graces 
(however  much  thou  hast)  would  seem  in  the  midst  of 
thy  heart,  like  a  feeble  spark  flung  loose  amidst  the 
heaving  surges  of  the  ocean,  to  be  preserved  only  by  a 
constant  miracle  of  God !  Thou  wouldst  cry,  God  he 
merciful  to  me  a  sinner/    If  thou^  Lord^  shouldst  he  strict  to 


JUSTIFICATION  DISTINGUISHED.  219 

marh  iniquities,  oh  Lord^  who  could  stand!     Oh  !  lor etched 
man  that  I  am,  who  shall  deliver  me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ! 

The  more  near  any  individual  lives  to  God  the  more 
humble  he  will  be ;  the  more  he  will  behold  his  deficien- 
cies and  in-dwelling  corruptions ;  the  more  he  will  see  of 
the  extreme  littleness  of  his  graces.  God  is  a  being  of 
spotless  holiness,  and  the  more  near  we  come  to  him,  the 
more  striking  will  be  the  contrast  between  his  awful  holi- 
ness and  our  own  base  pollutions  and  sins.  We  never 
seem  so  vile  in  our  own  eyes  as  when  we  are  admitted 
to  close  communion  with  God.  Our  graces  never  seem 
so  little  as  when  we  rise  to  try  them  in  heaven.  We 
never  realize  our  want  of  grace,  our  deficiency  in  love, 
and  penitence,  and  holiness,  and  zeal,  so  much  as,  when  in 
the  exercise  of  them,  we  have  come  nearest  to  God- 
Where,  then,  should  this  boasting  of  being  full  of  grace, 
this  self-confidence,  this  rejoicing  in  one's  self,  be  ranked  ? 
Surely,  we  must  place  it  among  those  strong  delusions ; 
too  strong  to  be  corrected  by  proofs,  and  too  obstinate  to 
feel  the  power  of  the  clearest  demonstrations.  And  we 
leave  it  for  you  to  judge,  whether  there  is  not  some 
reason  to  fear,  that  those  who  are  so  self-satisfied,  and 
think  themselves  so  perfect,  or  so  near  perfection,  are 
really  (though  unconsciously)  seeking  j  ustification  by  the 
law.  We  leave  it  for  you  to  judge,  whether  they  are 
not  rejoicing  in  their  imagined  religion,  their  love,  zeal, 
ardor,  prayerfulness,  only  because  they  are  expecting 
justification  from  them,  and  claiming  heaven  because 
they  are  so  well  entitled  to  enter  into  its  rest. 

The  Apostle  speaks  of  another  method  of  justification. 
The  just  shall  live  by  faith. 

We  have  seen  what  it  is  to  seek  Justification  by  Law, 
and  have  pointed  out  some  instances  in  which  men  may 


220  LEGAL  AND   EVANGELICAL 

be  doing  it,  when  tliey  a,re  far  from  knowing  wLat  they 
do,  and  when  their  self-confidence  renders  it  vain  to 
attempt  to  correct  them.  Let  us  now  see  what  it  is  to 
seek  Justification  by  Faith. 

The  man  who  expects  to  be  justified  by  faith,  acknowl- 
edges himself  guilty  of  sins  which  deserve  the  utmost 
rigor  of  punishment.  He  dare  not  approach  God  directly, 
and  put  himself  on  trial.  He  confesses  that  he  deserves 
to  wear  eternally  those  chains  of  darkness  that  weigh 
down  the  damned,  and  dwell  eternally  amid  the  flames 
of  that  fire  that  is  never  quenched !  But  he  is  not  afraid 
of  these  punishments.  He  hopes  to  be  justified  of  God, 
and  live  for  ever  in  heaven,  because  he  believes  God  will 
deal  with  him,  not  according  to  his  own  character  but 
according  to  the  relation  he  bears  to  Jesus  Christ.  It  is 
through  the  medium  of  Jesus  Chkist,  and  not  through 
the  medium  of  his  eeligion,  that  he  approaches  God. 
He  trusts  Jesus  Christ  to  save  him^  a  poor  sinner.  He 
does  not  yield  to  that  gloomy  despair,  to  which  the  sense 
of  his  sins  would  hurry  him ;  but  he  hopes  to  be  saved 
from  his  sins  and  from  their  punishment  through  the 
medium  and  mercy  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  Con- 
sequently, he  counts  all  things  hut  loss  for  the  excellency  of 
the  knowledge  of  Christ.  Why  ?  that  he  may  he  found  IN 
HIM,  not  having  his  own  righteousness^  WHICH  IS  OF  THE 
LAW,  hut  that  which  is  through  the  faith  of  Christy  the 
righteousness  which  is  of  God,  hy  faith  (Phil.  iii.  8,  9).  He 
sees  that  pardon  is  by  no  mere  act  of  amnesty  from  God. 
He  sees  iniquity  lifted  off"  from  him  and  laid  upon 
another.  In  that  other  alone  he  trusts  to  be  just  with 
God.  There  he  rests :  there  he  hopes :  there  he  hides. 
This  is  the  general  idea  of  Justification  by  Faith. 

But  this  is  too  general  for  entire  security ;  and,  conse- 


JUSTIFICATION  DISTINGUISHED.  221 

quently,  we  find  tlie  Divine  writers  defining  it  more 
particularly.  They  not  only  present  Jesus  Christ  as  the 
great  and  supreme  object  of  Faith ;  but  they  trace  out 
the  exercises  of  that  Faith,  and  secure  us  from  error  by 
particular  illustrations.  Jesus  Christ  dying  for  sinners — • 
offering  himself  a  sacrifice  to  the  justice  of  the  Father, 
is  the  SOLE  OBJECT  on  which  the  mind  of  him  fastens 
who  shall  be  justified  by  his  faith.  But  as  this  idea  is 
still  genera],  as  it  is  not  specific  and  particular,  men  are 
liable  to  think  themselves  seeking  to  live  (like  the  just) 
by  faith ;  when,  in  reality,  they  have  none  of  the  faith 
that  saves.     Let  us  examine  the  matter. 

Faith  is  a  term  of  very  indefinite  signification;  and 
the  indefiniteness  of  the  word  is  the  source  of  danger. 
Sometimes  faith  is  put  for  mere  historical  belief:  through 
faith  ive  understand  that  the  ivorlds  were  r)iade  (Heb.  xi.  3). 
Sometimes  it  is  put  for  those  special  acts  of  confidence 
with  which  the  working  of  miracles  was  connected:  if 
ye  have  faith  as  a  grain  of  mustard-seed^  ye  shall  say  unto 
this  mountain  remove  hence  to  yonder  jylace,  and  it  shall  re- 
move (Matt.  xvii.  20).  Sometimes  it  is  put  for  the  credence 
exercised  by  devils :  the  devils  also  believe  and  tremble 
(James,  ii.  19).  This  word,  therefore,  is  of  vague  signifi- 
cance; and,  therefore,  the  Christian  should  heed  well 
what  is  the  object  of  saving  faith,  and  what  are  the  par- 
ticulars of  its  exercise^  lest  he  should  suppose  himself  to 
have  faith  when  he  has  none. 

Jesus  Christ  offering  himself  a  sacrifice  to  satisfy 
Divine  Justice  for  sinners,  is  the  object  of  saving  Faith. 
Now,  men  are  exposed  to  think  themselves  living  in  the 
exercise  of  this  faith  when  in  reality  they  are  not. 
There  are  numerous  methods  in  which  they  err,  and 


222  LEGAL  AND  EVANGELICAL 

usually  they  err  because  all  their  ideas  are  too  general — 
not  clearly  definite  enough  and  particular. 

1.  There  are  those  who  make  their  faith  itself  the 
meritorious  ground  of  their  justification.  They  know 
how  much  efficacy  the  Scriptures  ascribe  to  it:  they 
delight  to  dwell  upon  the  commendations  bestowed  upon 
it  in  the  Word  of  God.  And  when  they  imagine  they 
have  this  faith,  they  rejoice  in  it  and  hope  in  it,  as  that 
which  lays  the  foundation  of  their  expected  eternal  life. 
Their  joy,  their  hope,  is  vain.  It  is  not  the  faith  of  the 
believer  which  constitutes  the  meritorious  cause  of  his 
justification,  and  he  has  no  right  to  rejoice  in  it  or  hope 
in  it  as  such.  The  meritorious  cause  of  our  justification 
is  Jesus  Christ  alone  ;  and  all  our  hope  and  joy  should 
be  in  him^  as  our  foundation-rock.  It  is  he  who  justi- 
fies us,  and  not  we  ourselves,  not  our  faith.  Had  not  he 
left  heaven  on  his  high  mission  of  mercy  to  tabernacle 
in  the  flesh — had  not  he  borne  for  us  the  wrath  of  God 
— had  not  he  stood  in  our  law-place  and  been  ivounded 
for  our  transgressions  and  hruised  for  our  iniquities — ^had 
not  he  died  for  us  that  we  might  live  ;  all  our  repentance 
and  faith  in  God,  (if  such  things  could  have  been,)  and 
all  our  efforts  for  eternal  life,  would  have  been  of  no 
avail.  It  is  not  faith  that  merits  eternal  life.  Other 
foundation  can  no  man  lay  than  that  is  laid^  which  is  Jesus 
Christ.  (1  Cor.  iii.  11.)  Faith  is  not  the  foundatio7i,  it  is 
only  the  instrument  of  justification.  What  is  faith? 
"  Faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  a  saving  grace,  whereby 
we  receive  and  rest  upon  him  alone  for  salvation  as  he  is 
offered  to  us  in  the  gospel."  Faith  is  that  act  of  the  be- 
liever, which  God  has  made  it  necessary  that  he  should 
exercise,  in  order  to  be  interested  in  the  salvation  which 
Jesus  Christ  has  procured  for  him,  and  without  which 


JUSTIFICATION  DISTINGUISHED.  223 

act,  Jesus  Christ  hecomes  of  none  effect  unto  us.  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  foundation  and  cause,  and  faith  in  him  is 
the  instrument  of  justification.  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
meritorious  and  efficient  cause  of  our  justification,  and 
faith  is  that  act  by  which  we  are  made  partakers  of  his 
benefits.  Now,  when  men  are  hoping  IN  their  faith, 
instead  of  hoping  in  Jesus  Christ,  they  are  evidently 
building  upon  a  wrong  foundation ;  they  are  taking 
credit  to  themselves ;  they  are  claiming  merit  for  their 
faith.  It  is  true,  the  just  shall  live  BY  faith  ;  but  it  is  not 
said  the  just  shall  live  upon  it. 

Let  us  learn  to  discriminate.  Let  us  not  rely  upon 
our  faith  to  justify  us,  insteading  of  relying  hy  faith  upon 
Jesus  Christ.  Let  us  not  create  a  fictitious  zeal,  a  false 
hope,  a  blind  reliance,  a  vain  5e?/-confidence,  by  mistak- 
ing the  means  for  the  end,  and  trusting  in  our  faith  in- 
stead of  trusting  in  the  Lord  that  bought  us.  Let  us 
build  on  the  sure  foundation,  and  be  cautious  that  we 
build  there  alone.  Let  us  always  take  our  places  in  the 
dust  as  sinners,  confessing  that  all  our  graces,  our  faith, 
repentance,  and  zeal,  and  love,  are  far  too  feeble.  Let 
our  rejoicing  and  our  hoping  be  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  not 
in  our  graces  ;  and  then^  let  us  not  fear  that  we  shall  ever 
rejoice  or  hope  too  much;  let  hope  brighten  and  zeal 
burn  in  our  hearts ;  let  our  prayers  be  fervent  as  our 
desires  for  heaven  ;  let  all  the  feelings  of  our  soul  kindle 
into  a  sacred  ardor,  as  we  love  God,  and  live,  and  labor, 
and  pray  for  the  cause  of  our  Eedeemer  and  Lord.  We 
need  not  fear  any  excess  of  hope,  and  zeal,  and  happi- 
ness in  religion,  when  we  have  secured  the  right  kind. 
But  let  us  beware  how  we  forsake  Jesus  Christ  and  build 
upon  our  faith.  Let  us  beware  how  we  hope,  and  trust, 
and  rejoice  in  ourselves^  instead  of  rejoicing,  and  trusting, 


224  LEGAL   AND   EVANGELICAL 

and  hoping  in  him.  Let  us  beware  how  we  have  more 
FAITH  IN  OUR  FAITH,  than  we  have  in  the  merits  and 
words  of  our  Saviour. 

2.  We  have  said  that  Jesus  Christ,  suffering  and  dying 
for  a  sinful  world,  is  the  great  object  of  saving  faith,  the 
meritorious  cause  of  our  justification.  We  have  said 
that  saving  faith  is  that  act  of  the  believer  which  unites 
him  to  Jesus  Christ  and  makes  him  a  partaker  of  the 
benefits  of  his  death.  Kow,  there  are  others,  who,  on  the 
point  of  faith,  run  into  error,  and  a  very  different  error 
from  the  one  we  have  been  considering.  They  err,  like 
the  former,  for  want  of  discrimination  and  particular 
knowledge. 

They  have  asked  themselves,  and  perhaps  others  have 
asked  them,  if  they  desire  to  be  saved  by  Jesus  Christ? 
if  they  are  willing  to  be  wholly  indebted  to  his  grace  for 
the  pardon  of  sin  and  all  the  benefits  of  salvation? 
These  questions  they  can  answer  in  the  affirmative.  It 
is  their  desire  to  be  saved  by  Christ,  and  they  seek  no 
heaven  but  that  offered  through  his  blood.  And  be- 
cause they  desire  to  be  saved  in  this  method,  they  con- 
clude they  have  faith,  and  are  in  a  state  of  salvation. 
This  is  all  the  foundation  of  their  hope. 

This  hope  i^vain.  The  mere  desire  to  be  interested  in 
the  salvation  of  Jesus  Christ  is  no  proof  that  we  are 
Christians.  It  is  proof  that  we  are  welcome  to  his  mercy, 
and  that  we  may  come  at  once  to  him  to  save  us.  But 
to  have  a  mere  desire  for  his  benefits,  without  taking  into 
the  account  the  metliod  in  which  we  may  have  them,  is 
no  good  proof  that  we  are  Christians.  On  this  point 
I  desire  you  to  treasure  in  your  memory  the  four  follow- 
ing considerations : 

(1)  There  may  be  a  desire  to  be  saved  without  any 


JUSTIFICATION  DISTINGUISHED.  225 

desire  to  be  sanctified.  There  may  be  a  kind  of  faitli 
wbicli  may  rely  upon  Cbrist  for  salvation,  and  yet  not 
trust  his  rules  to  guide  the  soul  to  heaven.  That  faith  is 
not  only  imperfect  but  spurious  which  does  not  as  much 
to  confide  in  Jesus  Christ  to  qualify  for  heaven  as  to 
entitle  to  it.  The  Gospel  does  not  merely  propose  to  us 
the  pardon  of  our  sins  but  the  subduing  of  them.  And, 
therefore,  one  may  desire  salvation  by  the  mercy  of 
Christ,  and  still  not  desire  it  in  the  way  it  is  ofifered  ;  not 
desire  it  in  the  way  of  holiness,  and  by  a  heartfelt  sub- 
mission to  the  rules  which  promote  the  growth  of  holiness 
in  the  soul.  Yet,  if  any  one,  who  possesses  only  this 
presuming  and  fictitious  faith,  is  led  to  suppose  himself  a 
child  of  God  and  an  heir  of  heaven,  may  he  not  rejoice 
and  he  exceeding  glad,  though  still  in  carnal  security,  not 
a  sinner  subdued  ? 

(2)  A  mere  desire  to  be  interested  in  the  merits  of 
Christ,  may  be,  at  best,  no  better  than  a  dead  faith.  It 
may  be  inoperative.  It  may  not  purify  the  heart,  or  work 
hy  love.  It  may  be  as  much  dissevered  from  holy  affec- 
tion as  it  is  from  humble  obedience.  Still,  if  one  with 
an  unmoved  heart  imagines  that  Christ  will  save  him 
merely  because  he  has  a  desire  he  should,  will  he  not 
rest  in  hope,  and  rejoice  in  hope,  though  possessing  only 
a  dead  faith  ?  a  heart  cold  towards  God  ? 

(3)  True  faith  unites  us  to  Jesus  Christ,  makes  us  one 
with  him,  crucifies  us  with  him.  It  animates  us  with 
desires  to  be  partakers  of  his  redemption,  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  self-denial  required  of  us.  But  the  mere  de- 
sire for  his  benefits  is  not  a  willingness  to  bear  the  cross, 
and  how  can  it  be  a  proof  of  faith  ?  It  may  be  only  a 
faith  that  presumes  in  hope,  but  not  a  faith  in  following. 
Yet,  if  any  one,  on  account  of  his  mere  desire,  believes 

10* 


226  LEGAL  AND   EVANGELICAL 

Jesus  Christ  will  save  him,  lie  will  hope,  and  may  rejoice 
and  exult,  though  never  united  to  Christ  and  crucified 
with  him. 

(4)  The  mere  desire  of  salvation  by  Jesus  Christ  does 
not  include  in  itself  a  single  principle  of  faith — has  no- 
thing of  the  nature  of  faith.  This  desire  does  not  neces- 
sarily give  up  the  mind  in  faith,  to  be  taught  by  his  in- 
structions ;  the  heart  in  faith,  to  rest  upon  his  sacrifice ; 
the  will  in  faith,  to  trust  and  obey  his  rules.  Therefore, 
it  does  not  even  resemble  faith  at  all. 

These  considerations  may  convince  us  that,  to  have  a 
mere  barren  recourse  to  the  satisfaction  of  Christ  for  sin, 
and  to  entertain  an  indolent  desire  to  be  saved  by  him, 
are  no  good  evidences  of  faith,  and  no  good  reason  for 
peace  of  mind.  And  yet,  is  there  not  reason  to  believe 
that  some  are  resting  on  this  rotten  foundation;  and 
then  taking  credit  to  themselves  because  their  faith  is 
so  unshaken?  And  is  there  not  reason,  also,  to  fear  that 
some  true  believers,  when  they  would  build  themselves 
up  on  their  most  holy  faith,  praying  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
<'Jude  20,)  often  cultivate  this  fictitious  faith,  and  rejoice 
that  they  have  so  much  ?  joy  in  their  religion,  instead  of 
having  joy  in  God? 

It  were  easy  to  point  out  other  methods  in  which  souls 
are  liable  to  err  on  this  subject.  This  is  a  fertile  source 
of  danger  and  delusion.  But  we  leave  the  whole  matter 
to  your  reflection.  You  see  there  is  a  heaven-wide  dif- 
ference between  aiming  after  Justification  by  Law,  and 
after  Justification  by  Faith.  Bear  it  in  mind,  in  every 
part  of  your  religion,  that  that  faith  by  which  the  just 
shall  live,  has  one  great  object,  Jesus  Christ,  and  him 
crucified.  To  him  it  yields  up  the  mind  to  be  taught  in 
religion — it  receives  his   word — ^it  believes  the   whole 


JUSTIFICATION   DISTINGUISHED.  227 

Bible.  To  him  it  yields  up  the  heart,  to  rest  in  lioije  of 
the  glory  of  God  "apon  his  sacrifice,  and  to  love  Christ, 
and  love  that  kind  of  felicity  (viz.,  holiness)  which  Jesus 
Christ  proposes  to  the  soul :  it  trusts  him  solely — em- 
braces him  gladly — and  expects  salvation  through  his 
unmerited  mercy.  To  him  it  yields  up  the  will^  in  de- 
lighted obedience  to  follow  the  supreme  authority  of 
Jesus  Christ :  it  trusts  his  rules  to  fit  the  immortal  spirit 
for  heaven :  it  loves  his  laws,  as  well  as  his  mercy ; 
and  seeks  holiness  with  the  same  ardor  it  seeks  heaven. 
Thus  it  embraces  the  whole  man — mind,  heart,  and 
will — and  makes  him  feel  that  he  is  dead,  and  his  life  is 
hid  luith  Christ  in  God. 

REMARKS. 

1.  Ko  wonder  the  Scriptures  are  so  much  taken  up  in 
setting  forth  Christ,  and  his  crucifixion.  Christ  is  the 
sole  foundation — Christ  is  all  in  all  to  a  sinner. 

2.  Ko  wonder  the  Scriptures  insist  so  much  upon  self- 
examination.  Christ  must  be  in  us  the  hope  of  glory, 
or  we  can  not  be  saved.  There  are  many  ways  of  missing 
him. 

8.  No  wonder  that  the  Scriptures  steadily  insist  upon 
the  necessity  of  faith.  It  is  the  one  requisite  which  can 
never  be  spared.  Without  it  all  that  is  done  on  God's 
part,  and  all  that  can  be  done  on  the  sinner's,  must  for 
ever  be  vain.  Faith  is  that  one  link  that  unites  us  to 
Christ,  and  shelters  us  from  the  deserved  curse  of  God's 
law. 

4.  There  is  a  vital  difference  between  a  legal  and 
an  evangelical  spirit.  An  eye  on  Law  is  one  thing — an 
eye  on  Christ  is  quite  another  thing.  The  first  is  the 
attitude  of  Nature,  the  second  the  attitude  of  Grace. 


228         LEGAL   AND   EVANGELICAL   JUSTIFICATION. 

5.  Hence  we  see  tlie  justness  of  tlie  Bible  descriptions 
of  tlie  first  step  in  religion.  They  speak  of  it  as  conver- 
sion: Turn  ye,  turn  ye.  The  sinner  must  turn.  Over 
his  legal  path  lightnings  flash,  and  thunders  peal !  He 
must  turn  him  to  that  track  sprinkled  with  redeeming 
blood,  and  over-arched  with  the  bow  of  a  promising  God ! 
While  he  stands  between  Sinai  and  Calvary,  by  nature 
and  disposition,  his  face  is  directed  only  toward  the 
mount  of  thunders :  no  hope  for  him  is  there !  only 
blachiess,  and  dai^hness^  and  tempest !  Let  him  turn  to  the 
hill  of  crucifixion  :  the  light  of  Heaven's  love  for  sinners 
beams  on  its  top  ;  and,  while  it  throws  a  new  glory  over 
the  Godhead,  it  invites  and  sanctions  the  hope  of  the 
darkest  sinner  that  lives  ! 

6.  Finally  :  That  convicted  sinner  whose  eye  is  direct- 
ed only  to  the  evil  of  his  own  heart,  and  who  expects  to 
find  cheering  from  something  within  him,  is  greatly  mis- 
taken. It  is  not  by  looking  to  the  darkness  there  is 
within  him,  but  to  the  truth  there  is  without  him, 
that  he  may  find  jDeace.  It  is  not  by  contemplating 
what  he  will  do  for  himself,  but  by  trusting  to  what 
God  has  done  for  him,  that  he  will  find  his  obsti- 
nacy give  way,  his  suspicions  of  God  take  their  de- 
parture, and  his  heart  move  towards  God  as  one  that 
loves  him.  Let  him  turn  off  his  eye  from  the  darkness 
of  that  abyss  within  him,  and  lift  its  cheered  vision  to 
the  light  that  shines  above  him,  and  he  will  see  that  God 
is  his  best  Friend,  and  is  holding  out  signals  of  relief, 
and  hope,  and  love,  to  his  dark  and  troubled  soul.  Only 
let  him  believe,  and  he  shall  see  the  salvation  of  God. 


f  aiiitjr  0f  ^taii  if  net  ImiiiffrtaL 


Remember  how  short  my  time  is  :  wherefore  hast  thou  made  all  men  in 
vain  ? — Psalm,  Ixxxix.  47. 


rpHE  vanity  of  human  life  is  a  theme  mucli  dwelt  upon 
-^  in  the  "Word  of  God.  The  sacred  writers  seem  dis- 
posed to  impress  upon  the  mind  of  their  readers  such  a 
sense  of  the  utter  worthlessness  of  the  world,  to  a  being 
who  is  so  soon  to  leave  it,  that  the  mind  shall  be  con- 
strained to  turn  to  the  world  to  come.  Vanity  of  vani- 
ties is  the  inscription  they  write  upon  the  world.  They 
have  such  an  impression  of  the  frailty  and  brevity  of 
human  life,  that  they  borrow  their  imagery  to  describe  it 
from  the  most  tender,  and  fragile,  and  fleeting  things 
that  meet  the  human  eye.  It  is  the  flower  of  the  grass ; 
just  the  little  fragile  blossom,  that  dies,  even  beneath  the 
tenderness  that  touches  it !  It  is  the  tale  that  is  told ;  just 
the  little  story,  to  which  even  the  child  can  lend  its  at- 
tention, and  then  it  is  done !  It  is  the  vapor ^  that  appear- 
ethfor  a  little  time,  and  then  vanisheth  away :  the  eye  sees 
it — and  it  departs  on  the  breath  of  the  feeblest  wind  that 
moves ! 

There  are  probably  different  reasons  why  human  life  is 
spoken  of  as  a  thing  so  very  vain.  Its  brevity ;  the 
smallness  of  its  pleasures ;  the  frequency  of  its  disap- 
pointments ;  the  number  and  severity  of  its  pains,  are 


230  VANITY   OF   MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL. 

all  of  tliem  evidences  that  man,  in  his   earthly  state,  is 
little  else  than  vanity. 

The  occasion  of  the  expression  in  the  text  was  proba- 
bly some  of  the  calamities  which  befell  the  kingdom  of 
Israel.  In  the  reign  of  Eehoboam,  ten  tribes  of  Israel 
had  revolted.  Their  king  was  the  powerful  adversary 
of  the  king  of  Judah.  The  honor  and  power  of  the 
family  of  David  seemed  to  be  almost  extinguished. 
While  the  kingdom  was  rent  by  internal  dissensions, 
foreign  foes  were  watching  for  its  ruin.  Egypt  poured 
forth  her  legions  to  bring  the  shock  of  war  against  the 
throne  of  Jerusalem.  The  Psalmist  had  probably  wit- 
nessed the  glory  and  felicity  of  the  nation,  in  former 
years  ;  and  now,  when  he  beholds  that  felicity  and  glory 
no  more,  the  bitterness  of  his  feelings  appear  to  be  too 
much  for  expression.  Even  in  prayer  to  God,  he  ex- 
claims: Thou  hast  made  void  the  covenant  of  thy  servant: 
thou  hast  profaned  his  crown  hy  casting  it  to  the  ground. 
Thou  hast  broken  doivn  all  his  hedges:  thou  hast  brought  his 
strongholds  to  ruin.  All  that  pass  by  the  way  spoil  him :  he 
is  a  reproach  to  his  neighbors.  Thou  hast  set  up  the  right 
hand  of  his  adversaries ;  thou  hast  made  all  his  enemies  to 
rejoice.  Thou  hast  also  turned  the  edge  of  his  sword,  and 
hast  not  made  him  to  stand  iji  battle.  Thou  hast  made  his 
glory  to  cease,  and  cast  his  throne  down  to  the  ground.  The 
days  of  his  youth  hast  thou  shortened:  thou  hast  covered  him 
with  shame.  How  long,  Lord,  will  thou,  hide  thyself  for 
ever?  Shall  thy  wrath  burn  like  firef  Remember  how 
short  my  time  is:  wherefore  hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain? 
Seeing  the  vanity  of  life  in  the  mournful  example  he 
was  contemplating,  the  Psalmist  is  led  on  to  the  vanity 
of  all  human  existence,  and  utters  the  distressful  inter- 
rogation, Wherefore  hast  thou  made  all  men  in  vain  ? 


VANITY   OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL.  231 

It  is  manifest,  that  tlie  Psalmist  utters  these  words 
while  his  thought  is  confined,  to  this  world ;  and  not  in 
reference  to  that  eternal  existence  which  awaits  man  be- 
yond the  grave.  And,  in  speaking  from  them,  we  pro- 
pose to  show,  that, 

Man,  considered  merely  as  a  creature  of  this  world, 
and  without  respect  to  his  eternal  existence  in  another 
world,  may  be  said,  without  extravagance,  to  have  been 
made  in  vain. 

This  is  our  theme.     In  pursuing  it,  we  propose, 

I.  To  present  some  direct  proofs  of  the  vanity  of 
human  life ; 

II.  To  continue  the  illustration,  by  examining  into 
the  real  value  of  those  things  which  seem  to  render  our 
existence  of  most  worth ;  and 

III.  To  make  the  same  conclusion  more  plain,  if  pos- 
sible, by  closing  with  such  reflections  as  the  subject  sug- 
gests. 

1.  How  short  my  time  is,  is  the  lamentation  of  the  text. 

The  brevity  of  our  mortal  existence  can  not  fail  to 
have  affected  every  contemplative  mind.  We  look 
around  us,  and  the  oldest  persons  we  see  have  lived  but 
a  little  while.  They  are  passing  away,  and  anothei 
generation  is  pressing  upon  their  heels !  We  look  back 
upon  the  past,  and  we  find  it  dressed  in  sadness ;  those 
aged  people^  whom  we  used  to  know  and  reverence  when 
we  were  children,  are  numbered  among  the  dead.  Our 
mothers,  young  as  we  are,  we  have  many  of  us  buried 
them!  Our  fathers,  where  are  they?  Sweet  be  their 
memory — but  they  are  gone !  And  even  many  of  those 
who  entered  upon  life  when  avc  did,  have  passed  away. 
So  soon  do  we  pass  off  the  stage  of  life,  that  our  business 
here  seems  to  be  little  else  than  to  be*  born  and  die.     All 


232  VANITY  OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL. 

Human  kind  seem  to  be  engaged  in  one  united  rush 
toward  the  end  of  our  present  existence.  To  make  up 
for  the  deficiencies  which  death  causes,  we  are  obliged 
to  be  perpetually  forming  new  acquaintances.  Without 
this,  we  should  very  soon  be  almost  strangers  in  the 
world.  How  vastly  few  of  those  whom  we  knew  twenty, 
or  even  ten  years  ago,  are  now  in  the  land  of  the  living ! 
There  is  no  extravagance  in  the  expressions  of  the  Scrip- 
tures :  My  days  are  siviftei'  than  a  post ;  they  are  passed 
away  as  a  shadow ;  thou  hast  made  my  days  as  an  hand- 
breadth^  and  mine  age  is  as  nothing  before  thee  ;  as  for  man, 
his  days  are  as  grass :  in  the  morning  it  flourisheth  and 
groweth  up  ;  in  the  evening  it  is  cut  doivn  and  loithered. 

The  brevity  of  human  existence  demonstrates  the 
unutterable  littleness  of  man — the  utter  worthlessness  of 
his  being — if  he  exists  only  in  time. 

But,  transient  as  human  existence  appears  to  any 
casual  observer,  it  is,  on  the  whole,  far  more  transient 
than  even  a  careful  observer  would  be  apt  to  imagine. 
One  fourth  part  of  all  that  are  born  into  the  world  die 
before  they  have  lived  one  year !  Another  fourth  does  not 
survive  to  see  twenty-one  !  Thus  one  half  of  mankind 
are  swept  into  the  grave  before  they  have  scarcely 
reached  the  years  of  maturity.  The  average  length  of 
human  life  is  by  no  means  so  great  as  as  we  should  sup- 
pose, when  we  look  around  upon  a  promiscuous  assem- 
bly, and  behold  clusters  of  the  3^oung  among  a  multitude 
in  middle  life,  and  the  whole  assemblage  graced  with  not 
a  few  whose  locks  are  silvered  with  the  frosts  of  age. 
Those  youth,  those  children,  have  been  spared  from 
among  as  many  more  that  have  died.  Young  as  they 
are,  they  have  buried  half  their  cotemporaries.  Those 
middle-aged  people  (little  as  they  think  of  it)  have  out- 


VANITY  OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL.  233 

lived  almost  three-fourtlis  of  their  generation.  And 
those  venerable  in  age  are  but  a  little  fraction  of  a  gene- 
ration that  will  soon  be  entirely  extinct.  On  an  aver- 
age, the  lives  of  mankind  do  not  amount  to  more  than 
about  twenty-three  years.  In  the  city  of  New-York, 
the  average  length  of  life  is  less  than  twenty  years. 
Only  one  tenth  of  mankind  ever  sees  fifty  years. 
Surely,  aside  from  his  immortality,  man  was  made  in 
vain.  The  little  time  that  is  allotted  to  him  is  scarcely 
suflS.cient  to  learn  how  to  enjoy  what  good  the  world 
does  contain  and  offer  to  his  enjoyment. 

But  this  is  not  all.  Short  as  life  is,  there  are  some 
large  deductions  to  be  made  from  its  hours  when  we  are 
counting  up  its  value.     Let  us  see  what  they  are : 

There  are  hours  in  human  life  which  seem  to  be  (for 
their  own  sake)  not  worthy  of  being  reckoned  valuable. 
They  are  hours  (so  to  speak)  of  indifference^  in  which  we 
are  sensible  of  neither  joy  nor  grief;  in  which  we  do 
neither  good  nor  hurt ;  and,  therefore,  during  their  con- 
tinuance, our  existence  can  be  little  more  than  a  mere 
matter  of  indifference  to  us. 

Such  are  those  seasons  of  musing  thoughtlessness, 
when  we  are  destitute  of  mental  movement — when  the 
mind  roves  over  every  thing,  and  fixes  on  nothing — 
when  thought  has  no  object,  and,  therefore,  neither  in 
its  exercise  nor  in  its  attainments,  can  be  of  any  value — 
when  we  are  so  lost  to  consciousness  and  to  sensibility 
that  we  seem  scarcely  to  be  thinking  beings.  These  are 
hours  of  a  kind  of  indifference,  and  surely  these  are  not 
worth  living  for.  In  them  we  gain  nothing,  we  enjoy 
nothing,  we  do  nothing. 

Such,  too,  are  those  seasons  which  we  spend  in  sleep. 
Whether  our  business  is  to  do  or  to  suffer;    whether 


234  VANITY  OF   MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL. 

grief  or  pleasure  is  our  portion ;  wlietlier  virtue  or  vice 
occupies  our  waking  moments,  we  must  have  some 
repose.  Sleep  locks  up  our  senses,  and  consigns  us  to  a 
state  of  uselessness  and  indifference — a  state,  surely, 
scarcely  worthy  of  being  coveted  for  its  own  sake.  If 
we  could  do  nothing  but  sleep,  our  existence  would  be 
valueless.  And  yet,  so  worthless,  or  worse  than  worth- 
less, are  our  waking  moments,  how  often  are  we  glad  to 
escape  from  trouble  by  consigning  ourselves  to  an 
oblivious  repose  by  sinking  into  a  state  of  indifference, 
in  which  we  are  alike  incapable  of  vice  and  virtue,  and 
scarcely  sensible  of  either  good  or  evil?  And  in  this 
valueless  state  of  existence,  we  are  forced,  by  the  infirm- 
ity of  our  nature,  to  spend  nearly  one  fourth  part  of  the 
transient  life  we  have  to  live. 

But  this  is  not  all.  We  must  add  to  these  all  those  por- 
tions of  lime  which  we  regard  as  a  kind  of  necessary  evil : 
in  which  we  are  not  living  in  enjoyment,  but  only  in  hope, 
and  which  are  regarded  by  us  as  valuable,  not  for  their 
own  sake,  but  only  because  they  help  us  onward  toward 
what  we  expect  to  attain.  I  mean  such  seasons  as  we 
are  constantly  wishing  to  annihilate.  It  can  not  have 
escaped  you  that  there  are  many  of  them.  We  find 
them  when  we  are  just  entering  upon  life,  and  they  are 
seldom  corrected  by  the  wisdom  of  maturer  years.  For 
instance,  the  child  would  be,  at  once,  a  youth ;  he  would 
willingly  annihilate  the  years  that  separate  him  from  the 
age  and  the  companionship  of  those  who  are  older,  and, 
he  thinks,  happier  than  himself.  The  youth  longs  for 
manhood.  The  years  that  he  must  pass  away  before 
reaching  it,  are  a  burden  to  him.  He  would  gladly  give 
speed  to  the  flight  of  time,  and  rush,  in  a  single  moment, 
over  a  period  of  years.     And  even  the  wiser  man  often 


VANITY  OF   MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL.  285 

finds  himself  not  much  wiser ;  and  is  so  dissatisfied  with 
the  present  that,  in  order  to  arrive  at  some  future  and 
expected  good,  he  would  most  willingly 

"  Lash  the  lingering  moments  into  speed." 

Thus  we  are  perpetually  wishing  away  different  por- 
tions of  our  existence.  They  are  portions  which  we  do 
not  esteem  worth  having  for  their  own  sake,  but  regard 
them  as  a  kind  of  necessary  evil. 

Now,  if  we  take  away  these  seasons  of  indifference, 
these  seasons  of  sleep,  and  these  seasons  of  expectation, 
which  we  are  constantly  wishing  at  an  end ;  if  we  take 
them  from  the  length  of  our  very  short  hfe,  how  much 
will  there  be  left  that  can  wisely  be  regarded  of  any 
value  ?  Surel}^,  the  hours  of  enjoyment  in  human  life  are 
extremely  few.  All  the  real  felicity  that  we  attain  here 
is  of  small  amount.  If  this  life  is  all,  there  is  no  extrava- 
gance in  the  idea  that  all  men  are  made  in  vain.  The 
shortness  of  human  life  furnishes,  at  best,  but  a  little  time 
for  any  thing  desirable  ;  and  even  that  shortness,  in  order 
to  find  what  is  valuable,  must  be  diminished  by  many 
hours  of  indifference,  many  hours  of  rest,  and  many 
hours  regarded  by  us  as  an  evil,  or  at  least  as  worthless 
in  themselves.  The  extreme  shortness  of  human  life,  and 
the  still  shorter  period  of  happy  human  sensibility,  stamp 
an  unutterable  worthlessness  upon  man,  if  there  is  no 
immortahty  beyond  the  grave. 

2.  Let  us  now  consider  some  of  the  positive  evils  that 
are  in  the  world,  and  see  if  we  shall  not  be  furnished 
with  another  proof  of  the  vanity  of  our  existence,  con- 
sidered aside  from  another  world. 

But,  before  entering  upon  this  point,  pardon  us  for 
detaining  you  to  listen  to  three  remarks  in  relation  to  it. 


236  VANITY  OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL. 

One  remark  is  this :  that  when  we  are  speaking  of 
evils,  of  the  miseries  which  afflict  our  race,  we  do  not 
pretend  to  decide  whether  pain  or  pleasure  weighs 
heaviest  in  the  great  scale  of  human  destiny.  Some 
have  thought  that  the  world  contained  more  happiness 
than  misery.  Others  have  maintained  the  contrary.  It 
is  not  easy  for  us  to  decide  the  question.  And  it  is  prob- 
able, that  those  who  have  given  their  opinion  on  this 
point  have  been  much  influenced  in  their  decision  by 
the  temper  of  their  own  mind.  Those  of  easy,  contented 
temper,  disposed  to  make  the  best  of  every  thing,  have 
examined  the  brightest  side  of  the  question,  and  con- 
cluded that  the  happiness  of  the  world  outweighed  its 
miseries.  Those  of  fearful  and  desponding  temper,  ever 
on  the  look-out  for  some  calamity,  have  examined  the 
darkest  side,  and  concluded  that  the  miseries  of  the 
world  are  greater  than  its  joj^s.  It  is  probable,  that  in 
the  most  favored  regions,  and  in  the  most  happy  periods, 
there  is  more  of  enjoyment  than  of  suffering ;  while  in 
regions  and  periods  less  favored,  suffering  outweighs 
enjoyment.  What  the  truth,  on  the  whole,  is,  we  know 
not.  When  we  mention  the  evils  of  life,  w^e  do  not  mean 
to  afiirm  that  they  excel  its  joys. 

The  second  remark  is,  that  when  our  thought  is  turned 
to  consider  the  misery  of  the  world,  we  should  be  on  our 
guard  lest  we  become  dissatisfied  with  the  allotments  of 
Divine  Providence,  or  acquire  a  diminished  idea  of  the 
goodness  of  God.  There  w  affliction  in  the  world,  but 
still  God  is  good.  This  life  is  not  our  time  of  blessed- 
ness :  this  world  is  not  our  heaven.  The  blessings  our 
Saviour  intends  for  us  are  to  be  found  in  those  mcuii/ 
mansions,  where  death  never  dissolves  friendships — 
where  tears  never  embitter  joy — where  God  pours  the 


VANITY  OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL.  237 

full  tide  of  his  love  upon  souls  ransomed  for  immortal- 
ity. So  short  is  this  life,  that  if  our  Maker,  during  its 
whole  continuance,  were  to  bestow  upon  us  all  the  feli- 
cities we  are  capable  of  receiving,  it  would  be  a  mere 
trifle,  a  bestow  men  t  scarcely  worthy  of  God  to  give,  or 
worthy  of  us  to  receive.  Not  that  we  are  to  despise  the 
enjoyments  God  gives  us  here ;  but  that  we  ought  not 
so  to  overvalue  them,  as  to  have  a  low  or  limited  idea  of 
the  goodness  of  God,  when  we  find  them  few. 

The  third  remark  is,  these  very  evils  that  we  experi- 
ence, though  they  do  prove  to  us  the  vanity  of  this  life 
merely,  yet,  considered  in  reference  to  the  life  to  come, 
may  be  some  of  the  most  beneficial  bestowments  that 
God  ever  makes.  There  are  virtues  that  we  could  never 
exercise  in  prosperity.  Adversity  is  needful  to  give 
exercise  to  fortitude  and  patience,  if  not  to  faith.  It  is 
suffering  over  which  Pity  sheds  her  tears,  and  there  is 
pain  in  that  wound  into  which  the  good  Samaritan 
pours  his  oil  and  his  wine.  Let  us  not  think  that,  to  the 
Christian^  the  evils  of  life  are  useless,  although  we  may 
be  forced  to  conclude  that,  if  there  were  no  hereafter, 
our  multitude  of  ills  would  demonstrate  that  we  were 
made  in  vain. 

What  are  they  ?  Let  us  take  a  hasty  view  of  them. 
Our  plan  compels  us  to  be  general.  We  are  looking  at 
the  worth  of  all  human  existence  on  earth. 

(1)  It  is  scarcely  possible  for  us  to  be  happy,  when 
tortured  with  sickness  and  pain.  And  it  is  no  small 
portion  of  our  time  that  a  disordered  body  is  our  lot. 
Disease  stalks  over  the  world,  assuming  every  shape  of 
terror  and  affliction.  What  multitudes  of  our  race  are, 
every  moment,  tossed  and  racked  with  pain!  Thou- 
sands, this  moment,   are  in   the  agonies  of  death!     It 


238        VANITY  OF  MAN"  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL. 

furnislies  us  a  striking  view  of  tlie  disorders  and  mala- 
dies of  life,  when  we  behold  more  men  employing  their 
time  and  talents,  throughout  the  country,  in  the  practice 
of  medicine,  than  in  any  other  of  what  are  called  the 
learned  professions.  Indeed,  the  great  aim  of  the  human 
sciences  seems  to  be,  to  learn  how  to  escape  disease,  want, 
and  other  "  ills  which  flesh  is  heir  to."  And  after  all,  the 
world  is  full  of  sickness.  Its  pains  and  its  maladies  would 
make  man's  existence  vain,  if  he  were  only  a  mortal. 

(2)  Wars  and  fightings  are  a  source  of  misery.  (We 
are  obliged  to  name  these.  Our  subject  calls  us  to  view 
the  world  and  its  history.)  War  is  a  giant  evil.  As  if 
disease  were  not  enough — as  if  the  pestilence^  that  wcdketh 
in  darkness,  did  not  sweep  away  his  race  fast  enough  to 
satisfy  him — man  rushes  to  the  field  of  battle,  breathing 
that  destruction  that  wasteth  at  noonday.  The  first  man 
that  died,  died  by  violence.  And  ever  since  that  time 
the  history  of  the  world  has  been  written  in  blood.  In 
the  wars  of  Napoleon,  for  example,  from  1802  to  1812, 
there  perished  more  than  five  millions  eight  hundred 
thousand  men.  This  is  a  world  of  blood.  Nation  is 
armed  against  nation.  Towns  are  sacked.  Cities  are 
plundered.  Villages  are  burned.  And,  when  the  din  of 
battle  is  hushed,  and  the  thunder  of  the  battle-field  dies 
away  in  the  distance — what  do  you  see  ?  David  mourn- 
ing for  Absalom !  Eachel  weeping  for  her  children ! 
Ah!  yonder  is  a  host  of  trembling  fugitives,  helpless 
women  and  children,  hurrying  from  the  scene  of  desola- 
tion, and  scarcely  daring  to  turn  a  single  glance  back- 
ward to  the  spot  where  lies  the  husband  and  the  father 
in  his  blood !  It  is  no  over- wrought  picture.  OjDen 
almost  any  Nation's  History,  and  you  will  find  the 
burden  of  that  history  consists  in  accounts  of  warfare. 


VANITY  OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL.  239 

There  is  an  inconceivable  amount  of  misery  from  this 
source.  Attractive  as  is  the  laurel  of  victory,  it  is 
colored  with  blood ;  and  grows  only  on  the  soil  which 
has  drunk  the  tears  of  the  widow  and  the  orphan  ! 

(3)  Famine  often  follows  in  the  track  of  war.  N"o  mat- 
ter what  causes  it,  the  miseries  it  produces  can  be  calcu- 
lated by  no  arithmetic,  nor  expressed  in  the  language  of 
man.  And  this  is  no  unfrequent  calamity.  Even  in 
enlightened  and  Christianized  nations,  and  in  this  im- 
proved age  of  the  world,  many  men  die  for  want  of  food. 
And  in  less  favored  nations,  the  evil  is  a  thousand-fold 
more  appalling.  It  would  make  a  most  fearful  amount, 
if  Ave  were  able  to  reckon  up  the  whole  number  of  our 
race  that  have  perished  by  famine. 

(4)  And,  finally,  time  would  fail  us  to  tell  of  the  mis- 
eries produced  by  earthquakes,  shaking  down  cities  and 
burying  their  inhabitants  beneath  their  ruins  ;  by  volca- 
noes, pouring  their  liquid  fire  over  hamlet  after  hamlet, 
and  sometimes  burying  whole  cities  beneath  ashes  and 
burning  lava,  not  a  soul  left  to  tell  the  tale  ;  by  swelHng 
floods ;  by  stormy  wind  ;  by  lightning,  hail  and  tempest ; 
by  southern  heat  and  northern  cold,  and  the  thousand 
causes  which  seem  to  sport  themselves  with  human  life, 
and  delight  in  the  miseries  of  man. 

The  positive  evils  of  life  are  not  to  be  numbered.  They 
are  so  many,  that  we  are  forced  to  the  conviction,  that, 
apart  from  their  immortality,  all  men  have  been  made  in  vain. 

But  you  will  say,  there  are,  at  least,  some  things  of 
value  in  the  world ;  some  sources  of  felicity  open  to  us, 
so  full,  so  flowing,  that  it  is  no  vain  thing  to  enjoy  them. 
This  would  seem  to  be  true  ;  and  to  examine  them,  con 
stitutes  the 

n.  Part    of   the    train   of   thought  we   proposed  to 


240  VANITY  OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMOKTAL. 

jou.  As  we  enter  into  it,  let  us  not  forget  our  limited 
time  of  enjoyment — let  us  not  forget  our  positive 
miseries. 

There  are  things  in  the  world  which  we  value  highly : 
we  will  not  now  say  too  highly.  But,  after  all  the  good 
we  can  derive  from  them,  it  may  fairly  be  questioned, 
whether  a  reasonable  man  would  say  they  were  worth 
living  for,  and  would  not  the  sooner  say,  if  there  be 
no  immortality,  all  men  are  made  in  vaiyi.  What  are 
they?  We  name  four,  the  most  distinguished  that  we 
can  think  of — possessions,  intellect,  friends,  religion. 
From  all  these  we  derive,  indeed,  no  little  present  good. 
But  still  let  us  examine  them. 

1.  Those  who  have  extensive  worldly  possessions,  a 
superficial  observer  might  conclude  to  be  in  so  happy  a 
condition,  that,  if  this  life  were  all,  they  would  not  live 
in  vain.  They  seem  to  possess  all  they  can  use — they 
gratify  every  desire — they  bask  in  the  sunshine  of  pros- 
perity— and  therefore  their  present  life,  short  as  it  is, 
being  filled  up  with  happiness,  is  no  vain  existence. 
Thus  a  casual  observer  might  think,  and  thus,  perhaps, 
most  men  do  believe.  But,  my  hearers,  I  am  persuaded 
this  is  a  delusion.     Let  us  see. 

Worldly  possessions  are  mostly  employed  for  two  pur- 
poses ;  for  the  gratification  of  pride  and  vanity,  and  for 
the  gratification  of  the  senses. 

(1)  It  may  be  gratifying  to  vanity  and  pride,  to  be 
in  distinguished  condition — to  be  surrounded  with 
splendor — to  be  able  to  command  the  homage  of 
those  around  us,  and  flatter  ourselves  that  we  are 
better  than  other  people.  But  is  this  gratification  of 
much  value?  Is  it  a  worthy  end  of  our  existence  ?  Is 
it  as  extensive  or  as  real  as  we  are  prone  to  think  ?     By 


VANITY   OF   MAN   IF   NOT    IMMOKTAL.  241 

no  meaus.  It  consists  only  in  a  vain  elation  of  mind, 
an  imaginary,  dreaming  felicity.  There  is  nothing  sub- 
stantial in  it.  It  is  mere  fanc}^  The  child  of  imagina- 
tion, building  his  castles  in  the  air,  is  just  as  really  and 
as  permanently  blessed.  One  idea  of  the  reality  breaks 
both  alike.  If  wealth  brings  the  joleasure  of  pride,  it 
brings  the  pain  of  envy ;  and  the  ostentatious  and  proud 
have  more  misery  by  envying  those  above  them,  than 
they  have  felicity  in  ostentation  and  pride  before  those 
they  deem  below  them.  At  least,  it  is  usually  so. 
Moreover,  those  who  value  the  outward  respect  they  re- 
ceive on  account  of  wealth  and  splendor,  have  often  the 
extreme  mortification  to  know — (and  if  the}'  but  knew 
men's  hearts  they  would  have  it  oftener,)  they  have  the 
extreme  mortification  to  know,  that  this  respect  is  ren- 
dered to  them  most  insincerely,  and  by  those  who,  at  the 
very  time,  despise  them  in  their  heart.     This  also  is  vanity. 

(2)  The  gratification  that  worldly  possessions  furnish 
to  the  senses  is  very  much  qualified. 

That  gratification,  pursued  beyond  a  very  limited  ex- 
tent, destroys  itself,  and  often  the  life  of  him  who  pur- 
sues it.  Excess  disqualifies,  and  soon  ruins.  And  the 
rapidity  with  which  it  hastens  to  ruin,  may  be  intimated 
in  the  history  of  him,  who  said.  Soul,  thou  hast  much  goods 
laid  up  for  many  years,  take  thine  ease.  Ood  said,  thou  fool, 
this  night  shall  thy  soul  he  required  of  thee! 

And  if  there  is  no  excess,  the  pleasures  of  sense  can 
scarcely  be  worth  living  for,  because  of  the  care  neces- 
sary to  restrain  from  improper  indulgence ;  because,  afler 
all  sensual  enjoyment,  the  soul  is  not  satisfied  Avith  that ; 
because,  it  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  man's  existence  is 
of  much  value,  if  he  must  find  his  enjoyments  merely 
where  the  brutes  find  theirs,  in  animal  gratifications. 

11 


242  VANITY   OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL. 

After  all  the  failure,  and  fiction,  and  insincerity,  and 
envy,  that  attend  worldly  possessions,  we  cannot  surely 
suppose  them  of  much  real  value.  They  may  cheer 
human  life,  but,  ordinarily,  they  do  not  make  the  rich 
man  any  happier  than  the  poor  man  ;  and,  if  we  had  only 
what  they  afford,  Ave  should  be  compelled  to  confess  we 
were  made  in  vain. 

2.  But  intellect  J  it  may  be  said,  is  no  vain  thing.  To 
acquire  knowledge,  to  discover  truth,  to  exercise  those 
faculties  that  lift  man  above  the  brute,  is  a  dignified  and 
noble  employment :  it  is  a  source  of  high  felicity  ;  and 
the  existence  that  is  employed  in  this  way,  short  as  life 
is,  ought  not  to  be  stigmatized  as  in  vain. 

My  hearers,  I  suppose  I  have  as  high  an  idea  of  the 
dignity  and  felicity  of  intellectual  employ,  as  any  one 
that  hears  me.  But  still,  let  us  see  how  this  source  of 
good  is  qualified. 

Knowledge  is  not  necessarily  happiness.  "We  are  not 
going  to  say,  that  increase  of  knowledge  is  always  in- 
crease of  sorrow  (putting  an  extravagant  interpretation 
upon  the  words  of  the  wise  man — Eccl.  i.  18) ;  but  we 
believe  most  of  the  happiness  that  we  find  in  knowledge, 
in  exercising  intellect,  in  discovering  truth,  springs  from 
the  hope  we  entertain  of  making  our  knowledge  subserve 
our  happiness  in  other  respects.  If  our  only  felicity  con- 
sisted in  knowing^  we  believe  it  would  be  extremely 
small.  And  how  little,  even  men  called  learned,  suc- 
ceed in  making  their  acquisitions  advance  human  felicity, 
the  whole  history  of  cultured  intellect  too  sadly  tells. 
As  man  improves  in  knowledge,  it  is  true,  he  invents 
and  discovers  many  things  tending  to  make  him  happy ; 
and  it  is  just  as  true,  that  he  strikes  upon  many  things 
to  make  him  miserable.     If  he  invents  printing,  he  in- 


VANITY   OF   MAN   IF   NOT   IMMOKTAL.  243 

vents  fire-arms,  and  gunpowder,  and  implements  of 
death !  If  lie  discovers  medicines  that  do  him  good, 
he  discovers  also  what  does  him  hurt;  and  the  fiery 
deluge  of  intemperance  may  illustrate  the  idea,  as  it  rolls 
misery  over  the  world,  and  wafts  thousands  down  to  the 
drunkard's  final  doom.  So  that  neither  knowledge,  nor 
the  results  of  it,  forbid  the  exclamation,  man  was  made  in 
vain  !     But  this  is  not  all. 

It  is  only  a  small  part  of  the  human  family  that  have 
the  opportunity  of  cultivating  mind.  It  is  so  here.  It 
Ls  so  every  where.  It  always  was.  Even  in  the  most 
enlightened  countries,  there  is  an  immense  mass  of  our 
race  whose  whole  intellectual  improvement  does  not  ex- 
tend beyond  the  skill  necessary  to  manufacture  a  button 
or  a  pin.  Poverty  is  too  pressing  for  mental  culture. 
Hunger  has  more  powerful  arguments  than  science  can 
present.  Valuable,  therefore,  as  intellectual  action  and 
acquisitions  may  be,  they  are  valuable  to  only  a  few ; 
and  if  man  were  made  for  these,  he  was  made  in  vain. 
But  this  is  not  all. 

Examine  the  lives  of  the  most  distinguished  proficients 
in  knowledge,  of  those  most  eminent  in  all  that  pertains  to 
cultivated  mind,  and  you  will  find  their  intellectual  feli- 
city extremely  small.  Disordered  passions,  disappointed 
hopes,  defeated  designs,  make  them  very  much  like  other 
men.  Intellect  is  neither  virtue  nor  felicity.  As  man  is 
here,  power  of  mind  may  be  only  power  for  misfortune. 
The  fact  is  before  us,  the  trained  intellect  of  men  does 
not  make  them  happy  men  ;  they  have  much  the  same 
woes  as  others.  Were  there  no  life  but  this,  in  the  halls 
of  the  Academy,  and  on  the  temples  of  Philosophy,  we 
would  write  the  inscription,  this  also  is  vanity  ! 

3.  We  mentioned  friends   as   a  third  valuable  item. 


244  VANITY   OF   MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL. 

"We  thoTiglit  some  one  might  saj  to  us,  tlie  jojs  of 
friendly  attachment  are  neither  few  nor  small ;  they  are 
pure  ;  they  are  peaceful ;  they  are  noble.  "What  excel- 
lence in  that  affection  which  binds  families  together,  and 
makes  home  an  image  of  heaven!  Is  there  nothing 
good  in  that  love  which  binds  the  heart  of  the  mother  to 
her  children  ?  which  fastens  the  whole  soul  of  the  f.ither 
upon  his  sons  ?  which  calls  into  action  all  that  is  tender 
in  sentiment  and  all  that  is  dignified  in  virtue  ?  Short 
as  life  is,  is  that  life  vain  in  whose  circles  such  joys  are 
clustering  ?  My  hearers,  this  is  an  enchanting  picture. 
It  seems  like  malice  to  ruin  it.  But  let  us  rem.ember 
there  are  regions  where  the  husband  and  the  father  is  the 
tyrant ;  where  the  mother  murders  her  offspring  ;  where 
the  wife  is  the  slave ;  and  where  the  widow  burns  on  the 
funeral  pile  of  her  husband !  Let  us  remember,  too,  how 
often  friendships  give  place  to  enmity;  how  often  the 
tenderest  affection,  the  fondest,  the  purest,  receives  a 
most  sad  requital  in  coldness  and  indifference,  in  the  dis- 
obedience or  profligacy  of  some  abandoned  child  !  Let 
us  remember  how  often  we  are  miserable  because  we  can 
not  make  our  loved  ones  happy.  And,  if  all  this  is  not 
enough,  let  us  hear  the  lamentation  that  love  utters  in 
its  bereavement :  Oh  my  son  Absalom  !  my  son^  my  son 
Absalom/  ivould  God  I  had  died  for  thee,  oh  Absalom^  my 
son,  my  son  I  When  half  the  world  is  dressed  in  mourn- 
ing, its  friendships  can  scarcely  convince  us  that,  apart 
from  another  world,  all  men  have  not  been  made  in  vain. 

4.  We  mentioned  religion  as  a  fourth  item,  seeming  to 
qualify,  if  not  contradict,  the  sentiment  of  the  text. 

There  are  those  who  make  religion  the  great  object  of 
their  life  ;  who  serve  God  and  love  to  serve  him  ;  who 
disregard  things  seen  and  temporal  in  comparison  with 


VANITY  OF  MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL.  245 

tilings  tmseeii  and  eternal ;  wlio  hope  in  God,  and  believe 
that  he  has  pardoned  their  sins,  sanctified  their  hearts, 
accepted  their  persons,  and  will  finally  take  them  to 
heaven  through  the  mediation  and  redemption  of  Jesus 
Christ.  They  have  joys  the  world  knows  not  of;  peace 
the  world  meddles  not  with.  Sometimes  troubled  and 
dark  as  their  hearts  may  be,  still  they  find  seasons  of 
rest,  and  never  would  they  give  up  their  hope  in  God  for 
ten  thousand  worlds.  They  love  communion  with  their 
God  and  Father.  They  count  it  joy  to  deny  themselves, 
to  hring  every  thought  into  caiAivity^  and  look  forward  to 
the  final  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ  to  come  and  receive 
them  to  himself. 

ISTow,  what  is  all  this  religion  good  for,  if  there  is  no 
future  life  ?  If  this  life  is  all,  even  these  people  of  God 
have  been  made  in  vain  !  If  in  this  life  only  we  have  hope 
in  Christ  ive  are  of  all  men  most  miserable^  (1  Cor.  xv.  19.) 
Religion  is  vain,  if  the  world  is  all.  Its  votaries  are 
miserably  deluded.  They  have  renounced  the  world,  but 
gained  nothing.  Verily,  they  have  cleansed  their  hearts  in 
vain,  and  washed  their  hands  in  innocency^  (Psalm  Ixxiii.  13.) 
They  are  going  to  be  utterly  disappointed,  if  there  is  no 
immortality.  They  live,  they  labor,  they  pray  in  vain  ! 
For  a  mere  fiction — a  dream — a  lie — they  sacrifice  their 
best  interests  and  devote  their  best  powers !  They  give 
up  the  world  and  devote  their  life  for  a  falsehood  !  All 
their  joys  and  hopes  are  only  imaginary  !  Their  labor 
is  lost,  and  their  hopes  perish  for  ever !  Thus,  on  the 
suppostion  of  no  future  life,  we  confess  the  worthlessness 
of  even  the  Christian's  existence,  and  write  upon  his 
altars  the  vanity  of  his  being  ! 

But  no :  now  is  Christ  risen  from  the  dead^  and  become 
the  first  fruits  of  them  that  slept ;  and  all  them  that  sleep 


246  VANITY   OF   MAN  IF  NOT  IMMORTAL. 

in  Jesus  will  God  bring  with  him.     Religion  is  as  reason- 
able as  it  is  consoling. 

III.  Some  of  tlie  conclusions  we  draw  from  tliis  sub- 
ject ought  to  give  depth  to  its  general  impression. 

1.  We  learn  from  this  subject  the  amazing  difficulties 
of  that  species  of  infidelity,  which  denies  a  future  state. 
On  that  system,  all  the  world — man — ^body — soul — 
virtue — vice,  are  vanit}^ !  On  that  system,  we  see  no 
reason  why  man  should  have  been  created !  why  the 
world  should  exist !  Man  is  vain  ;  the  universe  is  vain ; 
the  Creator  himself  has  been  guilty  of  the  most  arrant 
folly !  On  that  system,  every  thing  is  involved  in  per- 
plexing mystery,  in  confusion,  darkness,  and  uncertain- 
ty !  How  true  it  is,  that  Christianity  is  the  best  phi- 
losophy. 

2.  This  subject  teaches  us  that  the  doctrine  of  immor- 
tality, the  truths  of  religion,  are  very  needful  to  us,  in 
order  to  make  us  happy  even  here.  Remove  these — 
and  what  is  the  universe  f  a  vain  show,  a  worthless 
bubble  !  Remove  immortality — and  what  is  man  ?  a 
distressful  dream  !  a  throb — a  wish — a  sigh — then,  no* 
thing!  But,  blessed  be  God,  life  and  immortality  are 
brought  to  light.     Yes, 

3.  This  subject  teaches  us,  that  the  true  Christian  is 
the  happiest  man.  He  is  not  perplexed  with  a  thousand 
doubts  and  difficulties  that  trouble  the  unbeliever.  He 
knows  lohat  it  is,  that  has  produced  the  miseries  of  the 
universe ;  and  why  it  is,  that  the  world  is  full  of  evils. 
He  knows  man  has  revolted,  rebelled  against  his  Maker, 
and  therefore  the  curse  is  on  the  world.  He  knows  that 
Chance  does  not  rule ;  that  Accident  does  not  make 
hearts  bleed  and  make  men  die.     He  knows  that,  after 


VANITY  OF   MAN   IF  NOT   IMMORTAL.  247 

all,  God  is  good,  and  man  was  not  made  in  vain.  He 
knows  that  God  hath  reconciled  believers  to  himself— thsit 
God  is  in  Christ  reconciling  the  luorld  to  himself,  not  imputing 
to  them  their  trespasses.  His  religion,  therefore,  teaches 
him  the  reason  of  the  ills  of  life,  and  furnishes  him  with 
motives  and  grace  to  bear  them.  He  sees  immortality 
before  him.  True,  he  must  suffer — must  pass  through 
many  fiery  trials ;  but — hear  him,  as  he  enters  into  the 
furnace :  What  is  he  saying  ?  This  light  affliction,  which 
is  hut  for  a  moment^  worketh  for  me  a  far  more  exceeding 
and  eternal  weight  of  glory.  True,  he  must  part  with 
many  that  are  dear  to  him  ;  he  must  commit  his  fathers, 
his  children  to  the  grave  !  But — hear  him,  as  he  stands 
by  the  earth  just  lifted  over  his  friend  by  the  spade  of 
the  grave-digger :  Lazarus  sleepeth !  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
resurrection  and  the  life!  True,  he  must  lie  down  and 
die  1  But — hear  his  broken  accents,  amid  the  crumblings 
of  nature :  This  corruptible  shcdl  put  on  incorruption,  this 
mortal  shall  put  on  immortality — death  is  swallowed  up  in 
victory  ! 

4.  This  subject  teaches  us  the  powerful  urgency  of  re- 
ligion. Keligion  is  every  thing  to  man.  Without  it, 
man  is  nothing :  his  value,  is  a  song ;  his  life,  a  sigh ; 
his  property,  a  grave  ! 

5.  And,  finally,  we  can  not  but  think  that  this  subject 
should  be  peculiarly  impressive  to  the  young. 

Many  of  my  young  friends  here  are  thinking  much 
about  the  world.  Your  hearts  are  warm  :  your  bosoms 
beat  high  with  hope.  You  are  looking  forward  to  much 
joy,  to  many  days  of  happiness.  The  world  seems 
pleasant  to  you.  Your  sun  is  rising  brightly  in  the 
heavens,  and  your  prospects  promise  much  good. 

My  young  friends,  believe  me,  I  would  not  stand  over 


248  VANITY   OF   MAN   IF   NOT   IMMORTAL. 

your  joutli  to  prophesy  evil.  I  would  not  poison  your 
bliss,  nor  say  one  word  to  make  you  unhappy.  But  I 
must  tell  you,  you  are  going  to  be  disappointed !  The 
world  is  not  what  you  think  it !  If  your  hopes  and 
heart  center  upon  it,  you  will  gain  but  very  little ;  and 
even  that  little  mingled  and  imbittered  with  much  that 
is  sad !  As  you  pass  on  in  life,  your  expectations  will 
often  be  frustrated,  your  plans  deranged,  your  prospects 
darkened !  the  buoyancy  of  your  spirits  will  cease,  pain 
will  press  upon  your  bosom,  and  tears  be  sprinkled  along 
your  path !  This  life,  merely,  ts  a  vain  thing ;  the 
world  is  not  worth  your  having !  There  is  but  one  way 
in  which  you  can  be  happy.  Be  Christians — love  God — 
and  trust  in  his  Son,  and  set  your  heart  on  heaven.  At 
most,  you  can  get  but  little  good  out  of  this  world,  and 
you  can  live  to  enjoy  it  but  a  little  while.  Eeligion  will 
deprive  you  of  none  of  that  good,  not  an  item,  and  you 
will  be  the  more  happy  by  becoming  Christians. 

Let  me  warn  you  not  to  be  tempted  by  what  the 
Avorld  offers,  to  neglect  eternal  life.  The  world  will 
never  satisfy  your  heart ;  and  if  it  did,  it  will  soon  be 
burnt  up,  and  your  spirits  will  be  in  Eternity !  I  be- 
seech you,  think  often,  think  deeply,  where  you  will  be, 
when  this  short  life  is  done !  Eemember  your  immor- 
tality !  Yea,  remember  now  your  Creator  in  the  days 
of  your  youth,  tvhile  the  evil  days  come  not,  nor  the  years 
draw  nigh  when  you  shall  say^  I  have  no  pleasure  in  them. 


CI]^  Itn-tj)  of  iolJ. 

The  Lord  is  merciful  and  gracious,  slow  to  anger,  and  plenteous  in  mercy. — 
Psalm  ciii.  8. 

ITTE  invite  your  attention,  to-day,  to  a  wonderful  sub- 
*'  ject.  It  is  the  mercy  of  God.  If  we  are  able  to 
understand  this  subject  rightly,  we  shall  be  furnished  with 
an  attractive  argument  to  draw  us  toward  salvation.  If 
we  shall  understand  it  rightly,  there  will  be  no  gloom  of 
guilt,  no  trembling  of  fear,  no  despondency,  no  dread, 
no  darkness,  no  sense  of  unworthiness,  no  horrors  of 
judgment,  that  can  prevent  our  being  drawn  toward 
our  God  and  Father,  as  with  the  cords  of  love,  and  the 
hands  of  a  man. 

David  celebrates  the  mercy  of  God  in  the  Psalm 
before  us.  In  the  beautiful  poetry  of  an  Eastern  fancy, 
and,  what  is  more  to  our  consolation,  in  the  poetry  of  an 
inspired  and  sanctified  mind,  he  contemplates  this  mercy 
of  God,  diffusing  itself  over  both  worlds.  While  it 
reaches  down  to  the  minutest  wants  of  a  single  sinner, 
forgiving  his  iniquities^  healing  his  diseases^  satisfying  his 
mouth  with  good  things,  it  reaches  abroad  over  the 
extended  world,  encompassing  the  whole  family  of  man, 
executing  judgment  for  the  oj^pressed^  and  not  rewarding 
according  to  iniquity.  And  while  it  does  not  forget  this 
temporary  world,  and  the  little  interests  which  figure  in 

11* 


250  THE   MERCY   OF  GOD. 

it,  between  the  time  of  its  rise  and  the  time  when  it  shall 
be  devoted  to  ruin,  the  inspired  writer  sees  this  mercy 
lying  back  in  the  remoteness  of  a  past  eternity,  and 
extending  onward  to  the  remoteness  of  an  eternity  to 
come — encompassing  the  very  period  of  the  Divine 
existence. 

There  is  something  very  beautiful  in  this.  It  meets 
nature.  It  satisfies  us  amid  the  tearfulness  and  tender- 
ness of  our  experience.  Kead  from  the  eleventh  verse, 
onward :  As  the  heaven  is  high  above  the  earth,  so  great  is 
his  inercy  toward  them  that  fear  him.  Till  you  can  meas- 
ure the  distance  to  his  throne  in  the  third  heavens,  you 
can  not  tell  the  magnitude  of  his  mercy :  As  far  as  the 
east  is  from  the  west^  so  far  hath  he  removed  our  transgress- 
ions from  us.  Like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children  (you 
see  he  passes  beyond  mere  thought^  and  speaks  to  the 
experience  of  those  human  sensibilities  which  no  language 
can  paint) — like  as  a  father  pitieth  his  children^  so  the  Lord 
pitieth  them  that  fear  him.  This  is  the  heart  of  the  Lord 
God.  For  he  knoiveth  our  frame  and  remembereth  that  we 
are  dust.  As  for  man^  his  days  are  as  grass  ;  as  a  flower 
of  the  field^  so  he  flour isheth  ;  for  the  wind  passeth  over  it^ 
and  it  is  gone,  and  the  place  thereof  shall  know  it  no  more. 
But  the  MERCY  of  the  Lord  is  from  everlasting  to  everlasting 
upon  them  that  fear  him.  The  mournfulness,  therefore, 
that  weeps  over  a  dying  race,  may  dry  up  its  tears,  as  it 
turns  to  the  everlasting  mercy  of  God.  It  is  from  everlast- 
ing to  everlasting — 

"  Yes,  spring  shall  revisit  the  moldering  urn, 
And  day  shall  yet  dawn  on  the  night  of  the  grave." 

For  the  Lord  hath  prepared  his  throne  in  the  heavens^  and 
his  kingdom  ruleth  over  all.      How  delightful  the  ideal 


THE   MERCY  OF  GOD.  261 

Man  fadeth  like  the  flower  of  the  field,  but  God's  mercy 
is  froTfi  everlasting  to  everlasting^  after  all !  Well  may  the 
cheered  author  finish  his  song:  Bless  ike  Lord.,  ye  his 
angels ;  bless  the  Lord,  all  ye  his  hosts  .  .  .  bless  the  Lord., 
all  his  ivorhs  .  .  .  bless  the  Lord,,  0  my  soul. 

The  mercy  of  God  is  the  theme  of  the  Psalm.  The 
Psalm  is  designed  to  set  forth,  as  the  text  itself  does, 

THE    PEEEMINENCE  OF  THE  DiVINE  MeRCY. 

This,  then,  is  our  theme  for  to-day.  We  commence  it 
this  morning,  we  propose  to  finish  it  this  afternoon. 

This  subject  is  not  without  its  difficulties.  It  has 
some  difficulties  for  the  hearer,  and  it  has  more  for  the 
preacher.  Yours  we  intend  to  remove;  ours  we  are 
constrained  to  weep  over.  You  know  Ave  are  not  accus- 
tomed to  complain  and  to  draw  on  your  partiality  or 
indulgence  for  any  undue  sympathies  in  our  trials ;  and 
we  would  not  now  mention  this,  only  we  wish  you  to 
remember  more  carefully  the  need  of  prayer,  and  the 
impropriety  of  reliances  upon  a  ministry  of  imperfection 
and  sin — a  ministry  of  dust  and  ashes  !  Brethren,  pray 
for  us.  Our  trial  is  this,  and  it  is  one  of  no  minor  sort. 
There  are  texts  and  themes,  there  are  subjects  in  the 
Gospel,  which  seem,  more  than  others,  to  lie  in  the  very 
depths  of  redemption,  and  to  embody  in  themselves  the 
very  essence  of  all  that  a  sinner's  soul  needs  to  expe- 
rience in  order  to  fit  it  for  heaven.  To  be  able,  at  all,  to 
enter  into  such  subjects,  regeneration,  repentance,  faith, 
love,  are  not  enough!  The  minister  needs  something 
more — he  needs  the  full  of  these  ;  he  needs  to  walk  ivith 
God,  like  Enoch ;  he  needs  the  resting-place  of  John 
(when  he  rests),  on  the  bosom  of  Jesus;  he  needs  to 
have  his  delight  when  he  culls  the  flowers  that  bloom  in 
the  garden  of  Arimathea;   he  needs  to  have  his  heart 


252  THE   MERCY   OF   GOD. 

hum  within  him,  like  the  disciples  conversing  with  the 
unknown  but  risen  Christ.  And  the  conviction  of  this — 
the  sad  and  sinking  conviction  of  it — has  often  compelled 
us  to  turn  away  from  those  august  themes  of  the  won- 
ders of  redemption,  to  which  any  strength,  and  light, 
and  faith,  and  piety  in  us  were  manifestly  unequal. 
One  of  our  heaviest  trials  is,  that  there  are  texts  in 
the  Bible  we  can  not  preach  from.  But  this  is  one 
of  those  difficult  themes.  And  we  mention  this  for  the 
double  purpose  of  cautioning  you  not  to  estimate  the 
mercy  of  God  by  our  explanation  of  it,  and  of  eliciting 
prayer  from  your  hearts  that  the  God  of  mercy  will  not 
allow  his  truth  to  become  like  tvater  spilled  upon  the 
ground,  vjhich  can  not  he  gathered  tqj  again. 

The  Lord  is  merciful  and  gracious,  slow  to  anger,  and 
plenteous  in  mercy.  The  idea  is,  the  preeminence  of  the 
Divine  Mercy.  This  idea  is  repeated  in  different  forms, 
according  to  the  custom  of  the  inspired  author,  when 
aiming  to  express  his  own  strong  and  vivid  emotions. 

In  attempting  to  understand  this  subject  as  well  as  we 
may,  let  us, 

I.  Define  the  idea  of  mercy,  and  give  as  much  precis- 
ion and  exactness  to  our  notions  of  it  as  we  can. 

II.  Let  us  guard  against  an  error  to  which  we  are 
exposed  in  relation  to  it. 

III.  Let  us  explain  how  it  comes  to  pass  that  the 
mercy  of  God,  which  ought  to  affect  our  hearts  so  much, 
really  docs  affect  them,  while  unconverted,  so  little.    And 

IV.  Let  us  enter  more  fully  into  the  wonderful  sub- 
ject, and  endeavor  to  gain  some  just  ideas  of  the  mercy 
of  God. 

The  first  three  of  these  things  occupy  us  this  morning ; 


THE  MEECY   OF  GOD.  253 

and  we  hope  may  prepare  us  for  the  more  interesting  one 
in  the  afternoon. 

I.  The  definition  of  Divine  Mercy  need  not  detain  us 
long. 

Mercy  is  the  exercise  of  benevolence,  of  good- will, 
toward  those  who  do  not  deserve  it ;  and,  in  especial 
manner,  toward  those  who  have  merited  anger  and 
punishment.  Mercy  is  favor  to  the  guilty  and  undeserv- 
ing. As  God  exercises  mercy,  he  extends  forgiveness 
to  those  who  have  broken  his  law,  provoked  his  anger, 
and  forfeited  all  claim  to  his  favor.  Unworthiness  and 
criminality  in  the  recipient,  and  good-will  in  the  other 
party,  are  essential  to  the  exercise  of  mercy.  As  the 
Deity  exercises  it  toward  us,  it  is  a  modification  and  a 
part  of  his  infinite  benevolence.  It  respects  us  as  utterly 
unworthy  of  his  kindness,  and  by  our  own  deservings 
eternally  undone.  Without  it,  our  guilt  would  ruin  us ; 
a  broken  law  would  be  against  us  with  all  the  weight 
of  its  penalty ;  and  hope  and  happiness  would  finally  ex- 
pire together,  under  the  frowns  of  an  angry  God. 

It  is  important  for  us  to  have  some  precision  in  our 
ideas  of  this.  Divine  Mercy  is  not  mere  Divine  good- 
ness: That  is,  there  are  a  thousand  expressions  of 
Divine  goodness,  which  have  no  mercy  in  them.  And 
it  lies  among  the  common  errors  of  unconverted  men, 
that  they  confound  the  ideas  of  goodness  and  mercy, 
and  solace  themselves  with  a  hope  that  rises  out  of 
the  confusion.  Goodness  is  exercised  toward  the  inno- 
cent sometimes :  mercy,  only  toward  the  guilty.  Good- 
ness is  shown  toward  angels  that  never  sinned.  It  was 
shown  toward  Adam  before  he  fell.  God's  goodness 
pervades   every   part  of   his  universe,    save  one;    and 


254  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD. 

carries  felicity,  more  or  less,  to  every  order  of  sensi- 
tive beings,  save  one.  Hell  only,  and  those  miserable 
reprobates  who  inhabit  its  eternal  abodes  of  despair, 
experience  nothing  of  it.  Grod's  goodness  fills  the  earth. 
It  extends  to  man  everywhere.  It  extends  to  beasts, 
happy  in  their  sunny  fields,  or  roaming  the  forests  amid 
the  wilds  and  richness  of  smiling  nature.  It  extends  to 
the  birds  of  the  air,  singing  their  songs  of  joy,  and  war- 
bling out  the  expressions  of  their  felicity  from  melodious 
throats,  as  they  mount,  buoyant  and  happy,  on  the  wings 
that  God  has  feathered  for  them.  The  Divine  goodness 
reaches  all  sensitive  being.  It  reaches  down  to  the 
worm  beneath  your  feet,  and  the  insect  decked  with  its 
gilded  colorings,  to  make  them  happy  according  to  their 
measure.  And  the  order  of  irrational  creatures  would 
be  more  happy,  were  it  not  for  man's  sin.  They  suffer, 
and  they  die  as  they  would  not  have  done,  had  not  sm 
entered  into  the  world.  The  world  groans  under  the  dis- 
orders sin  has  brought ;  and  the  inferior  order  of  beings 
would  have  enjoyed  more  than  they  do  from  the  good- 
ness of  God,  if  sin  had  not  introduced  irregularity,  and 
mischief,  and  perversion. 

Mercy  is  something  more,  therefore,  than  mere  com- 
mon goodness.  Divine  Mercy  is  what  no  man  can 
claim  from  God.  It  is  the  exercise  of  a  Divine  benevo- 
lence in  respect  to  a  guilty  being,  and  such  an  exercise, 
that  if  it  had  been  wholly  wanting,  if  the  God  of  heaven 
had  stood  unmoved  over  the  miseries  of  man,  and  seen 
this  guilty  world  sink  down  to  eternal  ruin,  no  reason, 
no  just  judgment  could  ever  have  impeached  the  benevo- 
lence of  God.  Mercy  is  the  intervention  of  gratuitous 
goodness.  It  is  benevolence,  bending  in  pity  and  com- 
passion  over  the   very   creature,  whose  guiltiness  has 


THE   MERCY  OF   GOD.  255 

deserved  tlie  frown,  and  tlie  everlasting  abandonment  of 
Heaven.  Aside  from  it,  no  attribute  of  the  Godhead 
would  have  been  dishonored — no  injustice  done  to  man — 
no  ground  of  complaint  could  have  been  found  in  the 
depths  of  his  miseries  and  the  dark  eternity  of  his  despair. 
This  is  sufficient  explanation  of  what  is  meant  by  the 
mercy  of  God. 

II.  Let  us  guard  against  an  error  to  which  we  are  ex- 
posed in  relation  to  it. 

We  are  in  danger  of  misconception  at  the  very  out- 
set. When  we  speak  of  the  preeminence  of  the  Divine 
Mercy,  we  are  in  danger  of  conveying  the  idea,  that  the 
mercy  of  God  infringes  upon  his  other  attributes,  or  over- 
shadows them,  and  flings  them  into  the  shade.  It  is 
vital  to  the  accuracy  and  truth  of  our  ideas,  that  we 
avoid  this.  The  error  we  wish  you  to  avoid  consists  pre- 
cisely in  this — precisely  in  the  difference  there  is  between 
the  notions  of  Divine  Mercy  entertained  by  an  intelligent 
and  humble  Christian,  and  those  entertained  (commonly, 
if  not  always)  by  unconverted  sinners  at  ease  in  their 
sins.  If  you  who  are  believers,  therefore,  will  cast  back 
your  thoughts  to  that  unhappy  period  of  your  lives, 
when  you  lived  (as  multitudes  now  live  around  you) 
unalarmed  and  fearless,  though  still  the  enemies  of  God — 
if  you  will  recollect  your  ideas  of  Divine  Mercy  then^ 
and  compare  them  with  those  you  have  now^  you  will 
see  precisely  the  error  against  which  we  would  caution 
you.  We  need  not  describe  it.  Your  hearts  feel  it. 
You  have  often  prayed  God  to  forgive  you  for  the  offense 
of  your  former  thoughts  of  his  mercy  and  grace. 

But  you  who  are  not  Christians  can  not  be  cautioned 
thus.     You  have  never  experienced  that  transition  from 


256  THE   MERCY   OF  GOD. 

darkness  to  light — from  error  to  accuracy — from  aliena- 
tion to  adoption.  Your  hearts  are  no  guide  to  truth. 
And  we  can  only  tell  you,  that,  when  we  speak  of  the 
preeminence  of  Divine  Mercy,  we  are  speaking  of  that 
thing  which  we,  as  Christians,  feel  to  be  of  all  things 
most  calculated  to  make  us  fear  and  hate  sin.  .We  love 
the  Divine  Mercy.  We  love  to  take  shelter  under  it. 
We  have  higher  ideas  of  it  than  we  can  give  you.  But 
we  see  clearly  that  it  does  not  countenance  impiety  and 
sin.  We  see  clearly  that  it  does  not  encourage  us  to  live 
prayerless  lives.  We  see  it  does  not  render  the  Deity 
indifferent  to  his  laws;  it  does  not  infringe  upon  his 
justice,  or  make  him  less  terrible,  but  more  terrible,  to 
all  who  will  indulge  themselves  in  sin.  But  still  the 
Divine  Mercy  is  preeminent.  By  this  attribute  God 
peculiarly  shows  himself  And  while  his  justice  is  in- 
finite, his  purity  infinite,  his  wisdom,  his  holiness,  his 
faithfulness  infinite  ;  and  while  his  mercy,  as  infinite  as 
any  of  these,  is  in  perfect  and  unbroken  harmony  with 
them  all,  at  the  same  time  there  is  something  in  the 
Mercy  of  God  which  stands  up  in  solitary  magnificence 
and  grandeur.  And  if  you  knew  how  much  you  are  in- 
debted to  it ;  if  your  unconverted  souls  but  realized  how 
wonderful  it  is  that  God  has  borne  with  you ;  if  your  de- 
lusions in  sin  did  not  diminish  your  ideas  of  your  un- 
worthiness,  and  thus  diminish  your  ideas  of  the  mercy 
of  God,  we  should  have  no  fear  that  this  text  or  this  ser- 
mon would  aid  your  indifference,  and  make  you  more 
ready  to  continue  in  an  unconverted  state.  If  you  did 
not  pervert  the  Divine  Mercy,  you  would  feel  it  as  an  in- 
finite attraction  ;  you  would  hear  its  voice  whispering 
comfort  into  your  ears ;  you  would  find  its  solace  reach- 
ing the  deepest  woes  that  ever  trouble  your  agonized 


THE   MERCY   OF   GOD.  267 

spirit ;  on  tlie  everlasting  arms  it  extends  to  jou,  you 
would  lie  down  soothed  and  satisfied — Grod  a  friend,  and 
hope  stretching  to  immortality !  And  it  is  with  the  hope 
of  being  able,  by  Divine  grace,  to  affect  your  hearts,  that 
we  ask  you  to  consider  the  mercy  of  God  to-day.  Ye 
indifferent  sinners — ye  hard-hearted  and  far  from  right- 
eousness— ^ye  prayerless,  rebellious,  hardened,  guilty,  yet 
unconcerned,  our  message  is  to  you  !  Hear  it.  Heed  it. 
We  stand  up  in  the  face  of  all  your  sins,  your  fears,  your 
guilt ;  ah  !  in  the  face  of  all  your  hardness  of  heart,  and 
tell  you  you  need  not  die  !  You  may  be  saved !  Your 
magnitude  of  sin  weighs  nothing  before  the  magnitude 
of  mercy !  Will  you  give  ear  to  the  message  ?  Will 
you  allow  yourselves  to  be  attracted  by  it  towards  God's 
forgiveness  and  a  glorious  immortality  ?  You  reluctate ! 
You  are  not  more  than  half  ready  to  allow  Heaven  to 
win  you.     Therefore, 

III.  Let  us  explain  how  it  comes  to  pass  that  the 
Mercy  of  God,  which  ought  to  affect  sinners  like  us  so 
much,  really  does  affect  us  (especially  in  an  unconverted 
condition)  so  little.  This  explanation  ought  to  prepare 
us  better  to  attend  to  the  truth  which  we  have  assigned 
to  a  fourth  head,  and  which  we  reserve  for  a  separate 
sermon. 

You  can  not  be  insensible  to  the  very  remarkable  fact 
that  the  human  heart  is  naturally  very  slow  to  be  affected 
by  any  idea  of  the  mercy  of  God.  No  doubt  the  sinful- 
ness of  human  nature  renders  us  less  sensible  to  any  of 
the  Divine  perfections.  And  it  is  noticeable  in  every 
believer's  experience,  that  his  religion  not  only  gives 
him  more  sensibility  to  the  attributes  of  God,  and  gives 
the  idea  of  these  attributes  more  influence  over  him,  but 


258  THE   MERCY   OF   GOD. 

his  religion,  his  very  experience,  consists  very  much  in 
this.  The  existence  of  God,  the  omniscience  of  God,  the 
omnipresence  of  God,  his  power,  his  faithfulness,  his 
holiness  and  merc}^,  all  that  God  is,  becomes  more  influ- 
ential to  a  believing  heart,  and  in  that  influence  experi- 
mental religion  very  much  consists.  The  believer  walks 
loith  God  and  lives  in  Christ.  The  believer  has  his  con- 
versation in  heaven.  He  sees  God  in  all  things,  and  all 
things  in  God.  He  knows  what  it  means  when  he  sings, 
and  loves  to  sing, 

"  Within  thy  circling  powei'  I  stand, 
Upheld  and  guarded  by  tliy  hand  ; 
Awake,  asleep,  ftt  home,  abroad, 
I  am  surrounded  still  with  God." 

The  influence,  and  a  sweet  and  sensible  influence  of  the 
perfections  of  God,  all  his  perfections,  comes  over  the  re- 
newed heart.  An  unregenerated  heart  fails  in  this. 
And  it  fails  in  a  very  remarkable  manner  to  be  affected 
by  the  Divine  Mercy.  The  very  child,  who  trembles 
when  it  thunders,  as  if  syllables  of  anger  were  uttered 
from  the  lips  of  a  just  God,  is  unaffected  by  the  mercy 
that  sends  the  lightning  harmless  over  his  head ;  or  he 
can  go  out  under  the  brilliancy  of  the  cloudless  heavens, 
and  never  see  any  thing  of  the  goodness  of  God 

"  In  those  bright  skies  that  bend  above 
Ilis  childhood  like  a  dream  of  love." 

The  man,  who,  in  his  sickness,  is  ready  to  fear  the  jus- 
tice of  his  Maker,  in  his  returning  health  forgets  the 
mercy  that  has  made  him  well.  The  man  of  adversity 
realizes  that  God  is  dealing  with  him  then  ;  but  in  his 
prosperity  he  did  not  look  up  to  God,  and  say,  thou 
crownest  my  life  luith  loving -kindness  and   tender  mercy. 


THE   MERCY   OF  GOD.  259 

And  he  can  see  then,  when  it  is  too  late  to  remedy  the 
evil,  that  in  his  prosperity  he  did  not  use  his  gifts  as  be- 
stowments  coming  from  the  goodness  and  mercy  of  Grod. 
The  world  is  full  of  such  examples.  Human  nature  is 
more  'reluctant  to  be  properly  influenced  by  the  Divine 
Mercy  than  by  any  other  perfection  of  God.  And  this 
is  especially  the  case  in  respect  to  that  mercy  in  the 
highest  sense — the  forgiveness  of  sin  and  eternal  life 
through  the  redemption  of  Christ. 

There  are  several  things  which  conspire  together  to 
cause  this. 

The  first  is  found  in  the  nature  of  mercy  itself  Sin  in 
the  human  heart  tends  always  and  uniformly  (when  the 
heart  is  unaffected  by  the  Divine  Spirit)  to  put  God  out 
of  mind.  That  is  a  graphic  description  of  its  tendency, 
not  willing  to  retain  God  in  their  knowledge.  And  there 
is  no  possibility  of  presenting  the  Divine  Mercy  to  the 
mind  of  a  heedless  sinner,  in  that  bold  and  commanding 
method  in  which  other  perfections  come  up  before  him, 
and  compel  him  to  feel  their  influence.  The  very  nature 
of  mercy  forbids  this.  What  is  its  nature  ?  It  is  gentle- 
ness, clemency,  forbearance,  kindness.  It  is  a  tenderness 
which  scarcely  probes  the  wound  it  would  heal.  It 
would  not  drive,  but  win  the  sinner.  It  would  not  alarm 
him  willingly ;  and  not  at  all,  if  alarm  were  needless.  Its 
delight  is  in  soothing  every  affliction;  in  making  the 
sinner  happy ;  in  putting  out  of  his  heart  the  miseries 
which  afflict  him  ;  and  causing  him,  in  the  fullness  of  his 
enjoyed  felicity,  to  forget  (as  far  he  can  either  safely  or 
happily  forget)  that  he  ever  had  an  affliction  to  weep  over. 
All  this  is  un-terrible  and  mild.  It  is  the  tenderness  of 
Heaven.  It  is  the  clemency,  the  gentleness  of  God.  In 
this,  therefore,  there  is  nothing  to  challenge  and  arrest 


260  THE   MERCY  OF  GOD. 

tlie  atheistical  tendencies  of  sin  ;  there  is  nothing  to  com- 
mand and  compel  the  reluctant  heart  into  sensibility  to 
this  attribute  of  God.  Justice  has  her  sword,  and  shows 
it,  whetted  and  bathed  in  heaven!  Judgment  has  her 
scales,  and  hangs  them  up,  balanced  on  the  throne  of 
God !  Omnipotence  has  its  thunders,  and  at  the  voice 
of  its  bidding,  worlds  leap  into  existence,  and  worlds  are 
blotted  out !  But  Mercy  comes  to  sinners  with  the  still- 
ness and  gentleness  of  the  dews  of  the  night.  It  comes 
down  to  the  deep  and  hidden  miseries  of  the  human 
heart.  It  comes  to  whisper  peace  in  a  still,  small  voice^ 
and  draw  us  to  the  God  of  mercy  by  cords  as  gentle  as 
they  are  strong — ^by  cords,  whose  strength  itself  consists 
in  their  gentleness.  This  is  one  cause  of  the  little  influ- 
ence of  this  attribute  of  God  upon  us.  Its  nature  is  such 
that  it  does  not  challenge  and  force  the  tendencies  of  sin. 
This  fact  is  no  compliment  to  the  human  heart — a  heart 
unfit  for  every  thing  but  the  strokes  of  severity. 

The  second  cause  is  connected  with  this.  It  is  found  in 
the  fact  that  sin,  in  the  human  heart,  has  made  its  most 
perfect  triumph  over  those  very  sensibilities  which  mercy 
aims  to  affect.  Mercy  aims  to  affect  our  sense  of  kind- 
ness and  good-will  in  God — our  sensibility  to  clemency 
and  compassion — our  filial  affections — those  feelings 
which  would  lead  us  to  say  unto  God,  Ahha^  Father^  in 
which  the  exercise  of  a  holy  faith  and  happy  faith  so 
much  consists.  Sin  hath  left  us  the  power  of  fear — the 
power  of  ambition — the  passion  for  glory ;  and  it  hath 
done  its  worst  work  in  the  human  heart,  by  making  it 
most  of  all  insensible  to  the  love  and  mercy  of  God.  It 
is  the  office  of  faith  to  embrace  this  mercy,  to  believe  in 
it,  to  rejoice  in  it,  to  love  it,  and  lean  upon  it.  It  is  the 
effect  of  unbelief  to  spread  insensibility  toward  God,  in 


THE   MERCY  OF  GOD.  261 

an  especial  manner,  over  those  sensibilities  wliicli  mercy 
solicits.  Go  round  these  seats,  and  look  into  the  hearts 
of  these  unconverted  sinners,  and  you  will  find  more 
sensibility  toward  God  in  any  other  respect,  than  in 
respect  to  his  kindness.  The  reason  is,  that  the  opera- 
tion of  sin  on  the  human  affections  tends  to  perpetuate 
its  own  dark  empire,  and  works  worst  of  all,  on  those 
views  and  feelings  necessary  to  be  exercised  in  a  believ- 
ing return  to  God. 

Convicted  sinners  often  err  on  this  point.  They  are 
sensible  of  their  hardness  of  heart.  They  mourn  over  it, 
and  wish  it  would  break.  They  strive  to  render  their 
terrors  of  God  more  dreadful,  their  sense  of  guilt  more 
oppressive,  their  fears  of  hell  more  distressful.  They 
suppose  they  must.  By  this,  they  suppose  their  hearts 
must  be  made  to  yield.  But  they  err.  It  is  not  so. 
The  fires  of  hell  convert  nobody.  The  torments  of  hor- 
ror and  despair  tend  to  confirm  unbelief,  but  they  never 
awaken  faith.  Let  such  sinners  cast  aside  their  dark,  and 
gloomy,  and  unjust  suspicions  of  God  ;  let  them  know 
that  they  fail,  most  of  all,  to  be  duly  affected  by  his  kind- 
ness, love,  and  mercy  ;  let  them  yield  their  hearts  to  his 
free  grace,  and  requite  him  with  love  for  love,  and  ten- 
derness for  tenderness  ;  let  them  turn  from  their  prodigal 
starving  to  rush  into  the  arms  of  their  forgiving  Father ; 
and  then,  and  not  till  then,  their  hearts  will  meet,  when 
they  hear  him  saying.  This  my  son  luas  dead^  and  is  alive 
again;  was  lost,  and  is  found. 

A  third  reason  is  found  in  the  sufferings  that  fill  the 
world ;  i.  e.,  the  ideas  of  irreligious  people  about  these 
miseries  give  them  a  wrong  idea  of  the  Mercy  of  God. 
The  world  is  full  of  affliction.  It  is  little  more  to  us 
than  a  place  of  tears,  and  then,  a  place  of  burial!  unless, 


262  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD. 

in  tTie  vanity  of  our  mind,  we  make  it  a  place  of  vision- 
ary dreaming !  As  a  sober  mind  contemplates  the 
miseries  that  fill  it,  and  remembers  its  own  sad  experi- 
ence of  ills  ;  such  a  mind,  while  without  religion,  is  very 
apt  to  have  erroneous  ideas  of  the  Mercy  of  God.  If 
God  is  merciful — is  so  merciful — is  merciful  like  a  God — 
why  are  such  tears  of  bitterness  streaming,  such  griefs, 
such  fears,  such  disappointments,  such  mountains  of 
sorrow,  resting  on  so  many  thousands  of  hearts  ?  And 
especially,  why  do  immortal  souls  experience  such  per- 
plexity and  anguish,  in  relation  to  the  attainment  of  that 
very  salvation,  to  bestow  which  is  the  very  office  of  God's 
highest  mercy  ?  Such  thoughts  will  come  up.  A  sin- 
ner cannot  always  avoid  them.  And  we  dare  not  say 
that  they  are  always  to  be  reckoned  among  the  worst, 
though,  surely,  they  are  among  the  most  unhappy  of  his 
sins.  Such  ideas  are  wrong.  They  do  not  invite  faith. 
They  rather  drive  toward  despair.  They  are  wrong. 
They  are  superficial.  They  are  false.  Three  errors, 
especially,  enter  into  them. 

The  first  is,  they  forget  that  these  very  miseries  are 
mercies.  Heaven  means  them  as  such.  They  are  such. 
The  mercy  of  God  has  made  this  world  so  full  of  evil,  in 
order  that  a  wise  man  looking  on  it,  and  gauging  the 
dimensions  of  its  miseries,  if  you  forbid  his  faith  to  antic- 
ipate an  immortality,  will  be  obliged  to  look  up  to  the 
Infinite  Creator  of  all  things,  and  ask  that  question, 
Wherefore  hast  thou  made  all  r}ien  in  vain  f  These  miseries, 
therefore,  compel  us  to  take  in  futurity.  Without  that 
futurity,  the  world  is  useless — our  existence  useless — and 
this  fabric,  soon  to  be  fuel  for  the  last  conflagration,  had 
better  never  have  risen  out  of  its  primitive  non-existence  [ 
If  an  atheist  is  a  fool,  a  murmurer  is  a  fool  also ! 


THE  MERCY   OF  GOD.  263 

The  second  error,  in  those  impressions  against  the 
mercy  of  God  which  are  derived  from  the  miseries  of 
the  world,  is  this :  these  persons  do  not  reflect  that  sin 
maintains  its  empire  over  the  human  heart  bj  putting 
the  world  in  the  place  of  God.  Eeligion  says  to  man, 
Love  not  the  world,  neither  the  things  that  are  in  the  world. 
And  mercy.  Divine  Mercy,  flings  poison  into  our  earthly 
cups  of  bliss,  flings  pestilence  upon  our  winds,  and  plants 
thorns  in  our  path,  in  order  to  drive  us  off  from  this 
world,  and  lead  us  to  give  God  our  hearts.  When  we 
have  hewed  out  our  cisterns,  laboriously  chiseled  from 
an  earthly  marble,  mercy.  Divine  Mercy,  does  us  the 
kindness  to  dash  them  into  pieces,  and  show  us  that  they 
are  broken  cisterns^  ivhich  can  hold  no  loater^  in  order  to 
turn  our  parched  lips  to  the  living  fountains  of  God. 

And  if  sinners,  still  charmed  with  the  world,  would 
but  see  this — would  but  understand  that  the  world  is 
that  which  satisfieth  not,  and  Mercy  has  made  it  so  ;  they 
would  begin  to  cluster  around  our  altars ;  they  would 
say  to  us — 

"  People  of  the  living  God, 

I  have  sought  the  world  around, 
Paths  of  sin  and  sorrow  trod, 

Peace  and  comfort  never  found ! 
Now  to  you  my  spirit  turns, 

Turns,  a  fugitive  unblest ; 
Brethren,  where  your  altar  burns. 

Oh,  receive  me  into  rest  ! 

"  Lonely  I  no  longer  roam. 

Like  the  cloud,  the  wind,  the  wave ; 
Where  you  dwell  shall  be  my  home, 

Where  you  die  shall  be  my  grave  ! 
Mine  the  God  whom  you  adore, 

Your  Kedeemer  shall  be  mine  ; 
Earth  can  fill  my  soul  no  more. 

For  God,  for  heaven,  I  all  resign." 


264  THE  MERCY  OF   GOD. 

The  third  error  in  these  impressions  is,  that  when 
earthly  miseries  seem  to  us  to  limit  the  mercy  of  God, 
or  constitute  an  argument  to  qualify  its  significance,  we 
ourselves  do  limit  the  range  that  is  due  to  our  thinking 
capacities  ;  and  limit,  too,  the  very  mercy  Avhose  narrow- 
ness afflicts  us.  Truth,  grace,  spreads  out  this  mercy  to 
overshadow  an  eternity.  This  is  its  main  object.  It 
cares  very  little  about  time.  God  cares  very  little,  com- 
paratively, what  we  enjoy  or  what  we  suffer  here.  Let 
us  not  be  Deists.  Let  us  be  Christians.  Let  us  not  be 
materialists,  to  weigh  nothing  but  dust  and  ashes,  and 
the  earthly  felicity  that  springs  out  of  them.  Let  us 
think  as  immortals — feel,  hope,  and  fear,  as  immortals. 
Let  us  go  out  in  our  contemplations,  and  plant  our  feet 
on  the  borders  of  that  unbounded  field,  as  wide  as  eter- 
nity, and,  by  the  Mercy  of  God,  as  blissful  as  heaven ; 
and  then  we  shall  not  be  tempted  to  think  God's  Mercy 
little  and  unworthy  to  be  trusted,  though  he  should  give 
us  but  few  joys  here.  He  intends  to  give  us  but  few. 
He  means  to  show  us  that  he  cares  very  little  about  the 
dying  bliss  of  this  dying  world.  And  if  we  understand 
his  "Word  rightly,  we  shall  understand  that  he  mentions 
his  earthly  mercies  to  us,  not  on  account  of  any  value  he 
puts  upon  them,  but  only  as  tokens  and  attractions  to 
that  infinite  Mercy  which  would  save,  eternally  save,  our 
sinful  and  immortal  souls.  God  cares  every  thing  for 
these.  Divine  Mercy  brought  Christ  from  heaven  to 
save  them ;  and  not  a  want,  no,  not  a  single  want  that 
takes  hold  on  eternity,  is  now  denied  to  a  sinner's  soul. 
Mercy  stretches  over  his  immortality  !  From  his  bed  of 
death,  she  stoops  from  heaven,  to  lift  him  to  his  home, 
his  Christ,  his  God  !     This  is  Divine  Mercy.     And  this 


THE   MERCY   OF   GOD.  265 

only  is  worthy  of  God  to  provide,  and  worthy  of  you  to 
prize  and  to  receive. 

On  next  Lord's  day,  the  table  of  mercy  will  be  spread 
here.  The  covenant  of  mercy  will  be  rehearsed,  and 
some  will  enter  into  it.  How  happens  it  that  some  of 
you  will  turn  jour  backs  upon  the  table  of  the  Lord?  Is 
there  no  mercy  for  you  ?  I  know  some  of  you  think 
so;  but,  my  dear  friends,  your  unbelief  malces  God  a 
liar!  It  is,  therefore,  a  great  sin — a  horrid  sin!  It  is 
bad  enough  that  you  have  broken  God's  law.  It  is  still 
worse  that  your  unbelief  rejects  God's  offered  Mercy ! 
Christ,  forgiveness,  heaven,  is  offered  to  you  in  all  the 
sincerity  of  God !  All  that  poor,  guilty,  helpless  sinners 
need,  is  offered  to  you  without  money^  and  ivithout  i^Tice. 
This  is  certain.  Will  you  believe  it  ?  Will  you  open 
your  eyes  and  behold  God's  infinite  readiness  to  receive 
you,  love  you,  save  you  ?  There  will  be  room  for  you 
at  the  Lord's  table  on  next  Lord's  day ;  and  if  you  are 
not  there,  the  reason  must  lie  in  your  unbelief,  and  not 
in  God's  Mercy.  I  call  on  the  sacred  emblems,  on  the 
covenant,  Christ,  on  heaven  and  earth,  to  witness,  that 
if  you  perish,  your  blood  will  be  upon  your  own  head, 
for  the  Lord  is  gracious  and  onerciful,  slow  to  anger ^  andt 
plenteous  in  mercy. 

12 


t  ^^rtji  erf  (Scir 

[CONTINUED.] 


The  Lord  is  merciful  and  gracious,  slow  to  anger,  and  plenteous  in  mercy.- 
Psalm  ciii.  8. 


rriHE  existence  of  God  is  that  great  truth  whicli  lies  at 
-*-  the  foundation  of  all  true  religion.  The  attributes 
of  God  give  true  religion  its  character.  True  religion, 
with  man,  is  what  it  is  because  the  attributes  of  God  are 
such  as  they  are. 

The  text  speaks  of  one  of  these  attributes,  and  would 
affect  us  by  it. 

In  this  Psalm,  David  celebrates  the  Mercy  of  God. 
The  text  is  only  a  declaration  of  a  fact  which  gave  rise 
to  all  the  expressions  contained  in  it :  The  Lord  is  gra- 
cious and  merciful^  slow  to  anger  and  plenteous  in  mercy. 
Mercy  is  good-will  to  the  undeserving.  It  is  the  exer- 
cise of  good-will  toward  those  deserving  of  anger  and 
punishment.  It  is  a  modification,  therefore,  of  benevo- 
lence or  love. 

We  have  not  time  now  to  recapitulate  even  an  outline 
of  what  we  advanced  this  morning  on  this  wonderful 
subject,  the  Mercy  of  God.  We  need  not.  It  is  one  of 
the  happinesses  of  this  ministry  we  exercise  so  unwor- 
thily, and  with  so  much  anxiety  and  pain  (and  it  is  a 


THE  MERCY  OF  GOD.  267 

happiness  for  wHcli  we  ouglit  to  be  deeply  affected), 
that  the  attention  of  this  congregation,  as  we  preach  to 
them,  furnishes  reason  to  hope  that  thej^  retain  some 
knowledge  of  what  they  hear. 

ly.  Leaving,  therefore,  the  ideas  of  this  morning  to 
the  fidelity  of  your  recollection,  we  enter  upon  the 
fourth  head  of  discourse  that  we  announced — ^to  endeavor 
to  gain  just  ideas  of  the  preeminence  of  the  Mercy  of  God. 

This  is  the  precise  sentiment  of  the  text.  David's 
mind  lingers  around  the  idea.  He  will  not  let  it  go. 
He  repeats  it  in  different  forms :  The  Lord  is  merciful  .  .  . 
and  gracious  .  .  .  slow  to  anger  .  .  .  and  plenteous  in  mercy. 
His  sentiments  of  piety  and  praise  give  an  eminence,  an 
exaltation  to  the  Mercy  of  God.  There  is  something 
singular  in  this.  Divine  Mercy  has  a  Divine  preemi- 
nence. While  God  is  infinite  in  every  perfection,  in  his 
wisdom,  power,  holiness,  justice,  truth ;  and  while  his 
mercy,  infinite  also^  stands  in  harmonious  combination 
with  all  these ;  at  the  same  time,  there  is  something  in 
the  Mercy  of  God  which  rises  up  to  the  wonderfulness 
of  an  amazing  and  solitary  magnificence !  It  is  not  easy 
to  give  you  a  clear  explanation  of  what  we  mean.  You 
will  know  before  we  have  done.  But  as  the  basis  of  our 
meaning,  it  will  be  sufficient  here  to  name  to  you  two 
ideas  of  explanation.  The  one  is  direct,  the  other  is 
taken  from  the  application  of  the  subject. 

l}h.Q  first  is,  that  while  they  are  all  infinite,  still,  all  the 
perfections  of  God  do  not  hold  the  same  rank  in  the  Di- 
vine character.  One  perfection  ma}^  be  more  glorious 
than  another.  That  omnipotence  which  weigheth  the 
mountains  in  scales,  and  the  hills  in  a  balance,  may  yield  to 
the  gloriousness  of  the  eternity,  and  the  infinite  truthful- 


268  THE    MEKCY  OF    GOD. 

ness  of  God.  That  omniscience  yvhicli  embraces,  every 
moment,  all  the  very  thoughts  of  all  the  creatures  in  the 
universe,  possesses  not  such  eminence  in  the  Divine  char- 
acter as  belongs  to  that  infinite  wisdom  that  infallibly 
produces  the  best  of  all  possible  results,  by  the  best  of 
all  possible  means.  There  is  no  error  nor  irreverence 
in  saying  that  in  the  Deity,  infinite  every  vfhere,  one  per- 
fection has  not  the  same  eminence  as  another.  On  this 
ground  it  is  that  we  are  speaking,  when  we  mention  the 
preeminence  of  the  Mercy  of  God.  This  is  the  direct 
idea  in  the  explanation. 

The  other  is  taken  from  the  application  of  the  subject. 
The  Deity  manifests  something  of  his  perfections  to  his 
creatures.  On  earth,  and  in  time,  they  are  visible,  even 
to  eyes  like  ours,  so  soon  to  be  dimmed  and  extinguished 
in  death  ;  and  in  that  brighter  world  to  which  faith  in" 
vites  us,  they  will  be  more  gloriously  visible,  as  the 
saints  of  the  most  high  God  enjoy  the  vision  of  the  Lamb 
in  the  midst  of  ike  throne^  and  have  thoughts  and  senti- 
ments worthy  of  God,  and  worthy  of  eternity.  But  as 
the  attributes  of  God  apply  to  his  creatures,  they  do  not  all 
apply  alike  :  they  do  not  all  produce  the  same  wondrous 
views,  and  the  same  elevation  of  sentiments.  The  pre- 
eminence in  this  respect  belongs,  and  Avill  ever  belong, 
to  the  Mercy  of  God. 

Let  us,  then,  enter  into  the  theme  as  well  as  we  may. 
We  have  seven  sources  of  argument,  taken  from, 

•1.  The  peculiar  delight  of  the  Deity  ; 

2.  The  nature  of  the  Divine  Kevelation  ; 

3.  The  method  by  which  Divine  Mercy  operates ; 

4.  Its  unlimited  extent ; 

5.  Its  equal  readiness  for  all  sinners  ; 

6.  The  smallness  of  its  requirements  ;  and 


THE   MERCY  OF  GOD.  269 

7.  The  greatness  of  tlie  sin  of  neglecting  it. 
These  are  our  topics.     Let  us  consider  them  as  well  as 
our  time  will  allow. 

1.  Mercy  is  that  attribute,  in  which  the  Deity  peculiar- 
ly delights.  It  has  been  styled,  "  the  darling  attribute 
of.  God."  We  do  not  like  the  expression.  To  many 
minds,  it  seems  to  imply  that  some  of  the  perfections  of 
God  are  no  favorites  with  him,  and  must  be  made  to 
yield  and  give  way  before  this.  Nothing  could  be  more 
untrue.  Entire  harmony  reigns  among  the  attributes  of 
the  Deity.  But  after  all,  though  there  may  be  an  error 
in  this  phrase,  there  is  a  truth  in  it,  too.  It  is  a  truth, 
that  the  Infinite  One  peculiarly  delights  in  the  exercise 
of  his  Mercy.  You  may  apprehend  the  meaning  of  this 
idea  by  what  takes  place  in  your  own  mind. 

You  are  a  citizen  of  this  commonwealth.  As  such, 
and  as  a  good  citizen  and  subject  of  the  laws,  you  owe 
various  duties  which  you  delight  to  discharge.  But  they 
are  not  equally  delightful.  Some  of  them  fall  in  with 
your  own  preferences  more  than  others  You  lend  your 
influence  and  labor  to  render  property  secure,  law  domi- 
nant, and  to  prevent  violence  and  disorder  :  you  delight 
in  this.  But,  as  a  wise  citizen,  you  have  more  delight  in 
aiming  to  secure  the  same  benefits  in  another  way  ;  you 
have  more  delight  in  giving  your  influence  and  labor  to 
render  all  classes  of  society  industrious,  intelligent,  con- 
tented and  happy  ;  so  virtuous,  so  conscientious,  that  they 
sball  be  a  law  unto  themselves^  and  have  no  need  of  legal 
sanctions  to  keep  them  in  order. 

As  a  member  of  societ}^,  you  delight  to  render  even 
justice  to  every  one,  in  all  your  various  intercourse — 
intercourse  of  trade — intercourse  of  science,  of  literature, 


270  THE   MERCY  OF   GOD. 

of  society,  of  religion.  But  you  have  more  delight,  as 
a  good  member  of  society,  in  being  able  to  go  beyond 
tbe  mere  measure  of  justice,  and,  even  at  some  personal 
sacrifices,  in  doing  something  to  dry  up  the  streams  of 
human  misery  ;  your  kindness  wipes  away  the  orphan's 
^  tear,  and  carries  gladness  to  the  heart  beating  such  un- 
equaled  throbs  under  the  weeds  of  the  widow.  In  all 
these  duties  you  may  be  equally  perfect,  but  you  are  not 
equaly  happy.  This  illustrates  what  we  mean  by  the 
peculiar  preferences  of  God.  His  delight  is  in  the  exer- 
cise of  his  Mercy.  He  delights,  indeed,  in  justice,  holi- 
ness, faithfulness ;  and  he  has  an  infinite  delight  in 
them ;  that  is,  his  delight  accords  with  the  infinity  of 
his  nature,  and  is  perfect  in  relation  to  the  importance  of 
the  attribute  he  exercises.  But  in  Mercy  he  peculiarly 
delights.  This  is  his  own  repeated  testimony.  He  is 
not  willing  that  any  should  perish.  He  affirms  that  he 
has  no  pleasure  at  all  in  the  death  of  him  that  dieth.  All 
that  he  has  seen  fit  to  teach  us  in  his  "Word,  respecting 
his  own  infinite  and  holy  feelings,  gives  preeminence  to 
his  Mercy.  Mercy,  indeed,  has  its  methods — its  way  of 
wisdom — its  rules  :  if  it  had  not,  it  would  lose  its  nature 
and  become  something  else.  The  poet  failed  in  that  so 
much  admired  conception, 

"A  God  all  mercy  is  a  God  unjust." 

^  That  is  truth,  but  it  is  not  all  the  truth — it  is  too  feeble 
for  the  fact.  Such  a  God  would  be  something  more  than 
unjust ;  and  the  licentiousness  of  the  attribute  among  a 
world  of  sinners  would  turn  the  mercy  into  unkindness 
itself.  Still,  the  Divine  Being  has  peculiar  delight  in  the 
exercise  of  his  Mercy.  God  loves  to  forgive  sinners. 
He  loves  to  save  them.     He  loves  to  adopt  them  into  his 


THE   MERCY  OF  GOD.  271 

family.     He  loves  to  cheer  them  with  his  promises.     And 
never  did  a  saint  on  earth  have  so  much  delight  in  re- 
j  ceiving  the  grace  of  God,  as  the  infinitely  gracious  God 
(  has  in  bestowing  it.    Much  as  you  may  find  in  the  Bible  to 
teach  the  infinitude  of  all  the  attributes  of  the  Deity,  and 
their  preciousness  to  him,  you  can  not  fail  to  see  the  jus- 
tice of  the  idea  that  he  speaks  in  most  singular  style  of  his 
Mercy.     The  delight  which  he  has  in  it,  the  singular  and 
peculiar  delight,  demonstrates  that  kind  of  preeminence 
which  we  have  affirmed  belongs  to  it.     It  is  Mercy  that 
unfolds  to  us  the  heart  of  the  God  of  heaven  !    It  is  Mercy 
which  he  most  of  all  things  delights  to  exercise.     His 
glory,    his  infinite    and    eternal    blessedness,   stand  in 
peculiar   connection   with  this.     Justice,  judgment,  the 
vengeance  he  takes  upon  the  wicked,  even  he  himself 
denominates  his  strange  work  (Isaiah,  xxviii.  21).     It  is 
not  what  God  likes.     Mercy  is  more  natural  to  him.     It 
is  more  like  God.     Even  when  Mercy  is  refused — ^re- 
jected— spurned;  and  judgment  is  compelled  to  act  on 
the  wicked,  Mercy  goes  out  upon  the  Mount  of  Olives 
to  shed  her  tears  over  the  devoted  city !     He  wept  over 
it:    Oh,    Jerusalem,  Jerusalem,  lioio   often  tcould  I  have 
gathered  your  children  together^  even  as  a  hen  gathereth  her 
chickens  under  her  wingsy  and  ye  would  not! 

2.  A  second  argument  is  found  in  the  nature  of  the 
Divine  Eevelation. 

The  great  purpose  of  this  Eevelation  is  to  disclose  to 
us  the  Mercy  of  God,  and  lead  us  to  accept  it.  Other 
things  which  we  need  to  know  about  God,  are  more  dis- 
closed to  us  in  his  works  than  this.  The  light  of  nature 
teaches  them,  we  mean,  they  are  taught  hy  nature ;  we 
do  not  mean,  that  man  understands  the  teaching,  unless 
the  Bible  aids  him  to  understand  it.     With  that  aid,  the 


272  THE   MERCY  OF  GOD. 

exercise  of  sober  reason  acting  upon  tlie  things  seen  in 
creation  and  providence,  leads  us  to  quite  a  tolerable 
knowledge  of  the  attributes  of  God ;  only  with  this  singu- 
lar exception.  The  Mercy  of  God  toward  us  guilty  and 
unworthy  sinners  is  of  such  a  nature,  that  the  magnitude, 
the  wonders,  the  grandeur  and  combination  of  all  that  is 
contained  in  creation  and  in  the  common  providences  of 
God,  could  not  disclose  it  to  us.  This  wonderful  creation 
(we  will  not  dispute  the  Psalm),  fitted  up  with  so  much 
wisdom  and  magnificence,  is  full  of  lessons  about  God. 
"We  may  read  them  in  the  vast  worlds  hung  out,  like 
gems,  above  us,  in  the  midnight  skies,  as  if  to  deck  the 
pathAvay  for  the  footsteps  of  the  Deity.  "We  may  read 
them  in  the  dews  of  the  night,  in  the  wild-flower's 
beauty,  and  in  the  wild-bird's  song.  The  power,  the  in- 
telligence, the  wisdom,  the  goodness,  the  justice  of  the 
Deity — these  are  to  be  learnt,  and  pretty  well  learnt,  as 
we  look  out  on  Nature,  investigate  her  laws,  and  study 
the  various  orders  of  beings  and  the  changes  which  we 
behold.  But  the  Mercy  of  God  creation  can  not  tell  us. 
The  declaration  must  come  from  his  own  lips.  It  is 
something  which  lies  so  deep  in  the  depths  of  the  Divine 
nature,  that  this  material  universe,  with  all  its  magnifi- 
cence, and  variety,  and  order,  and  wisdom,  cannot  tell  it  to 
us !  Aside  from  direct  revelation,  indeed,  we  may  learn 
something  by  the  power  of  our  own  reason.  We  may 
find  proofs  that  God  is  merciful ;  but  there  we  must  stop. 
We  can  find  no  proof,  perhaps  not  a  hint,  that  that 
merciful  God  will  ever  forgive  a  sinner!  The  human 
understanding  can  not  see  this.  It  can  only  see  a  little 
way.  By  three  different  considerations,  indeed,  it  may 
properly  be  led  to  conclude,  that  God  is  merciful ;  but 
none  of  these  will  furnish  a  single  i#em  of  assurance  that 


THE  MERCY  OF  GOD.  278 

Divine  Mercy  will  ever  forgive  a  sinner.  Let  us  see — let 
ns  learn  to  understand  liow  dumb  all  Nature  is,  and  how 
deep  in  the  perfections  of  God  lies  the  Mercy  which 
can  pardon  us. 

The  first  consideration  is,  that  our  Creator  has  formed 
us  with  such  minds  and  hearts,  that  we  esteem  Mercy  an  | 
excellence.  This  is  a  decision  of  human  nature.  We 
can  not  do  otherwise.  Singular  enormity  of  wickedness 
and  vice  may  furnish  some  exceptions,  perhaps,  but  they 
are  few.  You  must  descend  to  the  very  worst  classes  of  \ 
human  kind,  before  you  can  find  a  single  individual! 
who  does  not  regard  mercy  as  an  excellence  of  character. 
God  has  so  constituted  the  human  understanding,  as  to  . 
compel  it  to  do  so.  But  it  is  unreasonable  to  suppose 
that  God  would  form  his  intelligent  creatures  with 
understandings  compelling  them  to  dis- esteem  himself. 
He  must,  therefore,  be  merciful.  It  is  unreasonable  to 
suppose  that  he  would  have  made  our  souls  such  as  to 
deem  mercy  an  excellence,  if  he  were  destitute  of  it. 
Mercy  is  indispensable  to  a  character  of  perfection,  ac- 
cording to  the  decision  of  the  human  understanding. 

But  here  reason  must  stop.  She  can  not  go  a  step 
farther.  Nature  can  not  lead  her  a  step.  In  all  her  con- 
clusions, there  is  no  assurance  of  the  forgiveness  of  a 
single  sin !  Human  reason  can  only  discern  a  general 
mercifulness  in  God.  She  can  not  demonstrate  from 
man's  mental  formation — from  the  esteem  he  has  for 
a  character  of  mercy — that  Divine  Mercy  will  ever 
reach,  or  can  reach  the  worst  wants  of  the  world,  and 
grant  the  pardon  of  even  the  smallest  transgression ! 
Human  reason  can  not  tell  us,  but  our  guiltiness, 
as  sinners,  surpasses  all  the  mercy  there  is  in  God  I 
She    can    not    decide    by    any    indication,    much    less 

12* 


274  THE   MERCY   OF  GOD. 

by  any  proof,  that  it  would  not  be  an  imperfection  in  the 
Deity  to  forgive  sin.  One  of  the  most  masterly  minds 
among  the  Grecian  philosophers  doubted  whether  it  were 
possible  for  the  Deity  to  pardon  a  sinner.     He  was  a 

\ heathen,  without  the  Bible;  and  this  shows  us  at  what 
point  the  human  mind  will  stop,  must  stop,  unaided  by 
the  revelation  of  God.  It  may  deem  God  merciful,  and 
that  is  all !  What  it  will  be  proper  for  a  perfect  God  to 
do  unto  such  rebellious  and  guilty  creatures  as  we  are, 
the  human  understanding  has  no  means  of  determining ! 
It  casts  not  a  single  ray  of  light  on  the  abodes  of  guilt ; 
it  flings  not  a  hope  into  our  coming  eternity.  It  can 
not  tell  us  but  our  own  minds,  formed  as  they  are  to 
esteem  mercy  an  excellence,  when  they  come  to  under- 
stand, in  eternity,  what  a  perfect  God  ought  to  do,  will 
see  that  it  is  indispensable  to  his  perfections  to  punish  us 
eternally ! 

A  second  consideration  is  the  treatment  that  we  receive. 
We  experience  mercies  every  day.  We  are  guilty  of 
sinning,  as  all  men  well  know,  even  without  any  Divine 
Kevelation.  Strict  justice  would  punish  us  at  once. 
But  it  does  not.  We  are  spared,  and  not  only  spared, 
but  loaded  with  providential  favors.  This  is  mercy. 
God  positively  does  exercise  it  towards  us.  And,  there- 
fore, by  our  own  reason  we  may  know  that  he  is  merci- 
ful. 

But  here  again  we  are  limited.  Keason  can  not  tell 
us  that  this  Mercy  shall  ever  reach  beyond  outward  good- 
ness— reach  a  sin  and  blot  it  out.     It  can  not  assure  us 

r-  of  favor  for  eternity.  It  conveys  no  hint  of  any  Mercy 
beyond  our  earthly  allotments  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  all 
the  mercy  there  is  in  them  seems  to  be  more  and  more 
forsaking   us  as  we  draw  nearer  the  tomb.      Pained 


THE   MERCY  OF  GOD.  275 

limbs,  dimmed  eyes,  hearts  incapable,  in  age,  of  enjoying 
the  delights  they  once  relished,  the  distresses  of  our  last 
illness,  and  the  pangs  of  death,  seem,  and  must  ever 
seem,  to  unaided  reason,  as  indications  that  God's  Mercy 
is  fast  forsaking  us,  and  as  cause  for  a  fearful  loolcing-for 
of  judgment  in  another  world;  a  world  not  reached  by 
the  Mercy  of  God ! 

A  third  consideration  is  the  goodness  of  God.  All  his 
works  contain  prodTis  of  his  goodness.  The  Deity  is  in- 
finitely benevolent.  Mercy  is  a  part  of  benevolence — a 
modification  of  it.  Human  reason  can  discover  this,  and 
properly  conclude,  therefore,  that  Mercy  belongs  to  the 
Divine  character. 

But  here  again  it  must  stop.  Human  reason  can  not 
discover  that  propriety  and  justice  will  ever  permit  the 
Mercy  of  God  to  extend  to  the  forgiveness  of  iniquity, 
and  the  communication  of  future  happiness  to  the  sinner. 
Whatever  is  best  to  be  done  in  time  and  in  eternity, 
reason  teaches  us  that  God  will  do.  But  what  is  best — 
whether  final  forgiveness  can  ever  be  granted  to  the 
sinner — is  something  which  Keason  can  not  tell;  she 
knows  nothing  on  this  point.  As  Keason  looks  out  upon 
this  strange  and  tearful  world,  she  sees  God  doing  things 
contrary  to  all  that  she  could  expect.  He  fills  every 
chapter  of  the  world's  history  with  wonders.  He  sends 
famines !  he  shakes  down  Lisbons  with  earthquakes ! 
he  buries  Herculaneums  with  lava !  he  drowns  Limas 
with  the  waves  of  the  sea  !  Pestilences  do  his  bidding ; 
and  even  without  their  death-march,  one  fourth  part  of 
our  race  goes  down  to  an  infant's  grave  !  These  things 
are  beyond  our  understanding.  Beason,  therefore,  can 
never  decide  for  God,  and  know  that  the  Divine  Mercy 
is  so  great  as  to  reach  the  pardon  of  sin, 


^ 


276  THE  MERCY   OF  GOD. 

Besides,  as  she  turns  from  the  manifestations  which 
God  makes  of  himself  in  such  things,  to  consider  the  ex- 
tent of  his  kingdom  and  all  its  vast  and  eternal  concerns, 
Eeason  can  not  but  see  that  the  interests  of  that  kingdom 
demand  things  which  she  can  not  at  all  understand.  She 
is  forced,  therefore,  to  be  silent — dumb  !  She  can  dem- 
onstrate no  Mercy  for  sinners  beyond  the  tomb !  The 
patience  of  God  exercised  towards  the  unworthy  here, 
and  the  blessings  his  goodness  pours  out  on  guilty  heads, 
manifest  a  disposition  and  a  degree  of  mercifulness,  and 
lay  the  foundation  of  that  habit  of  prayer  which  the 
heathen  exercise  in  their  miseries  and  fears.  But  this  is 
all!  The  world — ^the  whole  world — all  the  goodness 
sprinkled  over  it,  all  the  forbearance  exercised  towards 
it  by  God  himself,  furnish  no  evidence  that  a  just  and 
holy  God  is  still  mercifal  enough  to  restore  a  sinner  to 
his  heart's  favor  and  final  salvation.  The  Mercy  of  God 
has  such  an  eminence  that  material  worlds  can  not  dis- 
close it.  Their  order,  their  beauty,  their  ranks  of  beings, 
their  laws,  are  unable  to  whisper  a  single  syllable  of 
comfort  into  the  ears  of  a.  dying  man  !  As  this  clay 
tabernacle  is  crumbling,  they  never  teach  him  to  say, 
this  dead  body  shall  rise.  As  the  spirit  is  torn  from  this 
temple,  human  reason  never  pron^ises  it  wings  of  angels 
to  bear  it  to  the  bosom  of  God !  God  has  trusted  his 
world  to  demonstrate  his  other  attributes,  but  not  to  dem- 
onstrate his  Mercy.  His  mountains  and  his  seas — his 
winds,  his  lightnings,  and  his  thunders — his  worlds 
wheeling  in  infinite  space  around  his  throne — suns,  stars, 
and  comets  in  their  order — the  existence  and  nature  of 
this  material  universe,  God  has  trusted  to  unfold  to  us 
his  wisdom,  his  omnipotence,  his  justice.  But  the  Mercy 
of  God  can  not  be  told  by  matter.     It  has  such  a  pre- 


THE  MERCY  OF  GOD.  277 

eminence  that  lie  himself  must  speak  it  out  to  us  from 
his  hiding-place  in  eternity  !  The  purpose  of  this  book 
is  to  disclose  to  us  the  Mercy  of  God.  It  tells  more  in  a 
single  page  than  all  the  universe  tells.  This  is  the 
second  demonstration  of  the  preeminence  of  the  Divine 
Mercy. 

8.  We  pass  to  a  third.  We  find  it  in  the  plan  by 
which  Divine  Mercy  operates.  This  plan  is  evidently 
singular,  and  an  infinite  remove  from  all  the  possible  dis- 
coveries of  reason,  and,  be  it  remembered,  from  all  the 
analogies  of  the  universe !  Other  attributes  can  operate 
in  the  other  plans  of  God;  and  it  is  an  exercise  of  filial 
piety,  we  admit,  to  be  attracted  to  the  Deity  by  the  road 
of  creation  and  providence.  But  there  is  a  better  road. 
The  way  of  redemption  is  the  way  of  sufficient  mercy .8-- 
Divine  Mercy  is  of  such  preeminence,  that  its  method  of 
operation  is  entirely  singular,  and  unlike  any  thing  else 
which  God  Almighty  does.  It  operates  by  the  incarna- 
tioU;  life,  and  death  of  the  eternal  Son  of  God.  He  who 
thought  it  not  rohhery  to  he  equal  ivith  God^  for  our  sakes 
became  poor,  that  we,  through  his  j)0vert7/,  might  he  made 
rich.  He  connected  himself,  in  a  manner  miraculous, 
intimate,  and  eternal,  with  flesh  and  blood.  He  became 
allied  to  sinners,  and  was  not  ashamed  to  call  them  his 
hrethreii.  He  was  born  in  a  stable  and  laid  in  a  manger. 
His  mother  was  a  poor  virgin,  and  her  betrothed  husband 
a  poor  man.  Destitute  of  protection,  his  parents  fled 
with  him  by  night  from  those  who  sought  his  life  ;  and 
destitute  of  wealth,  he  laboriously  wrought  in  the  busi- 
ness of  a  common  carpenter  to  earn  his  bread  hy  the  sweat 
of  his  face.  He  suffered  fatigue,  hunger,  and  weariness. 
He  was  tempted  of  the  Devil.  He  preached  the  Gospel 
to  the  poor.     He  healed  their  sick.     He  wept  in  their 


278  THE   MERCY   OF   GOD. 

sorrows.  He  raised  their  dead.  He  went  about  doing 
good.  He  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head.  He  died  the 
death  of  a  malefactor,  most  humiliating  and  distressing. 
Other  good  men  have  died  in  triumph,  but  he  died  in 
the  bitterest  agony.  The  foresight  of  his  sufferings  in 
the  garden  of  Gethsemane  forced  him,  with  all  his  un- 
equaled  submission  and  iron  fortitude,  to  sweat  great 
drops  of  blood  falling  down  to  the  ground.  Lifted  up  on 
the  cross,  God  his  Father  removed  the  light  of  his  counte- 
nance from  him  at  the  very  moment  when  we  should 
have  expected  something  else,  and  extorted  from  his 
dying  lips  the  bitterest  of  all  wailings,  My  God,  my  God, 
why  hast  thou  forsaken  me  f 

This  was  Jesus  Christ  I  This  was  the  Son  of  God  I 
.  This  was  he  who  had  power  to  raise  the  dead,  and  could 
easily  have  changed  the  sneers  of  his  murderers  to  confu- 
sion, and  come  down  from  the  cross.  But  then  there  would 
have  been  no  sufficient  Mercy  for  sinners.  Mercy,  to 
reach  the  forgiveness  of  sin,  and  secure  us  the  favor  of  God 
in  another  world,  requires  all  this.  It  asks  the  heart's- 
blood  of  the  Son  of  God !  It  demands  the  wonderful 
singularity,  that  the  eternal  Son  shall  leave  the  bosom  of 
the  Father — shall  be  allied  to  sinners,  worms  of  the  dust 
— shall  be  tempted — ^shall  suffer — shall  die  under  the 
wrath  of  God,  endured  for  us,  and  go  down  in  tears,  and 
ignominy,  and  blood  to  the  tomb!  This  is  Mercy's 
operation,  and  surely  it  is  singular.  There  is  nothing 
else  like  it.  God  himself  never  did  any  thing  else  like 
it !  Infinite  power,  infinite  intelligence,  infinite  holiness, 
^  have  no  such  exercises  as  infinite  Mercy.  Mercy,  then, 
has  a  Divine  preeminence.  It  makes  God  act  as  nothing 
else  makes  God  act !  The  angels  knew  what  they  were 
doing,  when,  over  the  plains  of  Bethlehem,  they  came, 


THE  MERCY  OF  GOD.  279 

*'  where  the  infant  Eedeemer  was  laid,"  to  sing,  Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest,  because,  on  earth,  on  this  wicked 
and  sinful  earth,  there  could  be  peace  from  God,  and 
good-ivill  could  reach  and  save — eternally  save — guilty, 
unworthy,  rebellious  man.  The  Apostle  knew  what  he 
was  doing,  when  he  puts  the  very  creation  of  God  under 
the  feet  of  Divine  Mercy  :  Who  created  all  things  hy 
Jesus  Christ  to  THE  INTENT,  that  now  unto  principalities 
and  powers  in  heavenly  places^  might  he  known  hy  the 
CHURCH — a  body  of  forgiven  sinners — the  manifold  wisdom 
of  God. 

4.  We  pass  to  a  fourth  consideration.  And  would  to 
God  it  could  reach  every  hard  heart  in  this  assembly ! 
It  ought  to  do  so !  And  especially,  there  are  some  of 
us  grown  gray  in  sin — and  others  of  us,  whose  hardihood 
has  greatly  enhanced  our  offences — whose  hearts  ought 
to  entertain  this  consideration.  It  is  this  :  the  promises 
of  Mercy  in  the  Gospel  are  absolutely  unlimited  by 
human  guilt.  They  furnish  refuge  for  every  penitent 
from  the  demands  of  Divine  justice.  There  is  no  excep- 
tion. There  is  no  crime  so  odious,  no  circumstances  of 
sinning  amidst  light  and  warnings,  and  the  strivings  of 
the  resisted  Spirit,  so  aggravating,  no  gray  head  so 
guilty,  as  not  to  be  pitiable  and  pardonable,  when  the 
sinner  affectionately  and  sincerely  turns  him  to  Jesus 
Christ.  This  is  singular.  This  is  wonderful !  Human 
reason  could  never  have  conjectured  this.  Human  sen- 
timents, without  grace,  never  have  any  thing  like  it. 
Let  us  see. 

You  can  presume  more  on  a  mother's  affection  than 
on  any  thing    else  I   can   think   of      Alas!    filial   in-\ 
gratitude  and  disobedience  have  often  tried  it ;  and  an  I 
unkind  and  reckless  son  has  given  woes  to  a  mother's 


X 


280  THE  MERCY  OF  GOD. 

heart  surpassing  all  others  that  spring  from  mere  earthly 
affliction.     But  that  mother's  heart  still  hangs  round  her 
cruel  child !     It  will  bear  with  him,  and  hope  in  him, 
longer  than  any  thing  else  1     It  will  forgive  him,  and 
pour  out  midnight  prayers  for  him,  to  the  merciful  and 
forgiving  God !     But  if  you  remove  from  it  the  senti- 
ments of  Christianity,  and  leave  it  to  the  mere  sentiments 
of  nature,  you  can  never  be  assured  that  that  cruel  son 
can  not  sin  beyond  the  extent  of  her  forgiveness.     There 
is  a  point  where    even    maternal    affection    will    die, 
(especially  if  not  sanctified  affection,) — killed,  crucified, 
and  blasted  by  filial  ingratitude  and  cruelty  !     But  God's 
Mercy  is  not  so.     It  has  no  limits  on  this  side  the  tomb  I 
The  greatness  of  sin,  the  enormity  of  sin,  the  aggrava- 
tions of  sin,  the  multitude  of  sins,  a7iy,  yea,  all  of  these 
put  together  never  exclude  a  penitent  from  the  blessed 
forgiveness  of  God  !     Who  can  limit  the  Divine  Mercy  ? 
To  Avhich  of  you,  in  your  old  age  of  guilt,  or  in  the 
sturdiness  of  your  younger  rebellion,  do  not  its  offers 
extend  ?     What  sinner  did  the  Mercy  of  God  ever  repel? 
what  wounded  heart  did  it  ever  fail  to  heal  ?     If  you 
will  turn  to  it,  you  may  leave  all  your  fears  behind  you. 
Mercy,    God's   Mercy,    will  never   ask  how  you  have 
sinned — how  long  you  have  sinned — or  through  how 
many  Divine  influences  you  have  gone  on  hardening 
your  heart  I     17ie  Lord  is  2)lenteoics  in  mercy.     The  extent 
'^  of  Mercy  has  forgiven  Nebuchadnezzar  and  Manasseh. 
It  has  forgiven  Paul,  who  persecuted  the  Church,  and 
Peter,  who  denied  his  Master.     It  has  forgiven  David, 
his  conscience  polluted  with  lust  and  blood,  and   the 
woman  taken  in  adultery !     This  extent  demonstrates 
its  preeminence.     God  is  merciful,  beyond  all  that  human 
hope  could  conjecture.     He  is  willing  to  forgive  any 


THE  MEECY  OF   GOD.  281 

sinner.  If  obstinate  perseverance  in  evil,  if  the  sin 
against  the  Holy  Ohost^  ivhich  hath  never  forgiveness^  forms 
an  exception,  it  is  not  because  Mercy  is  insufficient,  but 
simply,  solely,  because  there  is  no  disposition  to  seek  it. 
But  this  is  not  all.     Take  a 

5th  Argument ;  for  its  readiness  ought  to  affect  yon. 
There  is  something  singular  in  this.  There  is  something 
wonderful.  It  surpasses  the  measure  of  human  senti- 
ments, and  sometimes  staggers  even  a  Divine  faith. 
What  we  mean  is  this,  that  the  extent  of  the  sinner's 
guilt  makes  no  difference  about  the  readiness  of  his  for- 
giveness— that  the  Mercy  of  God  will  forgive  him  if  he 
repents  at  any  stage  of  his  sin  on  this  side  of  hell,  with 
precisely  the  same  facility  and  readiness !  This  is  pre- 
eminence in  Mercy.  God  pardons  all  the  penitent  with 
equal  readiness — the  greatest  and  least  offenders.  This 
doctrine  may  seem  strange  to  those  whose  sentiments 
have  not  drunk  deep  at  the  Gospel  fountain,  and  been 
formed  amid  contemplations  of  the  infinite  atonement  of 
the  Son  of  God.  But  we  dare  affirm  it.  We  challenge 
your  examination  of  the  whole  Gospel,  to  detect  any 
difference  in  the  readiness  with  which  God  forgives  peni- 
,  tent  sinners.  You  would  make  a  difference ;  but  God''s 
thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts.  You  would  find  it  a  more 
difficult  thing  to  forgive  the  enemy,  who  had  loaded  you 
with  insult,  and  abuse,  and  injury,  all  your  days — who 
had  wantonly  destroyed  your  happiness,  marred  your 
peace,  insulted  your  kindness,  and  done  all  in  his  power 
to  make  you  contemptible  and  miserable ;  you  would 
find  it  a  more  difficult  thing  to  forgive  such  a  one,  at  the 
last,  than  at  the  first  of  his  offences.  You  would  do  it^ 
if  you  are  a  Christian ;  you  would  do  it,  when  he  said, 
I  repent^  even  to  seventy  times  seven.     But  you  would  find 


282  THE   MERCY  OF  GOD. 

it  a  trial  of  your  Christian  temper ;  and  probably,  if  you 
are  not  a  Christian,  all  your  feelings  would  refuse  it.  But 
it  is  not  so  with  God.  He  forgives  the  greatest  offender, 
when  he  repents,  as  readily  as  he  forgives  the  least. 
Not  a  hint  in  the  Gospel  opposes  this  idea.  Not  a  single 
hint  or  suggestion  flings  any  difficulty  in  the  way  of  the 
most  free  and  ready  forgiveness  of  the  most  guilty  sin- 
ner that  ever  lived.  That  guilt  makes  no  difference 
about  the  readiness  of  his  forgiveness.  It  does  make  a 
difference  about  the  probability  of  his  repentance,  and 
d  his  seeking  forgiveness ;  but  it  makes  no  difference 
about  the  readiness  with  which  the  God  of  mercy  will 
throw  around  the  penitent  the  arms  of  a  forgiving  and 
fatherly  embrace.  It  makes  no  difference  about  the 
readiness  with  which  your  heavenly  Father  will  give  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ash  him.  Mercy,  Divine  Mercy, 
is  preeminent.  It  surpasses  all  the  extent  of  human 
reason,  human  expectation,  human  sentiments  and  hopes. 
It  not  only  reaches  the  greatest  offences,  but  the  greatest 
as  readily  as  the  least. 

We  had  marked  two  other  aguments.  One  was,  the 
small  requirements  that  Mercy  makes  of  us — only  to  re- 
pent and  fall  into  the  arms  of  God  for  eternal  favor  and 
eternal  life.  The  other  was  the  most  bitter  dreg  in  the 
cup  of  a  sinner's  condemnation — that  he  rejected  Mercy, 
while  mercy  might  be  had,  and  will  find  the  preemi- 
nence of  his  woes  in  the  remembrance  of  the  preeminent 
Mercy  that  offered  to  save  him  from  the  anger  of  God 
and  his  bed  in  hell — that  the  rejection  of  Christ  digs  his 
pit  deeper !  We  must  leave  these  two  ideas  to  your 
own  contemplation. 

But,  my  dear  friends,  this  eminence  of  Mercy  ought 
not  to  be  in  vain  to  you.     It  is  this  which  solicits  your 


THE  MERCY  OF  GOD.  283 

faith.  God,  the  infinite  God,  has  done  more  to  convince 
you  of  his  boundless  Mercy  to  sinners,  than  to  convince 
you  of  any  thing  else.  The  tendency  of  sin  is  to  make 
your  hearts  insensible  to  the  powerful  attractions  of  God( 
and  suspicious  of  his  kindness  towards  you.  In  the 
revelations  of  his  mercy,  he  is  striving  to  affect  your 
hearts.  You  mistake  your  own  nature,  if  you  think  the 
terrors  of  judgment  and  the  fears  of  hell  are  ever  going 
to  bring  you  to  God  in  faith.  They  never  will.  They 
may  bring  you  to  despondency — ^to  a  life  of  gloom,  and 
to  a  death-bed  of  despair !  But  they  will  never  bring 
you  to  a  happy  faith. 

"We  know  there  is  reason  to  fear  God — but  there  is 
more  reason  to  love  him.  He  has  done  this  most  won- 
derful of  all  his  works,  out  of  love  to  us,  poor,  guilty 
and  dying  sinners ;  and  if  we  would  only  believe  God, 
and  turn  ourselves  to  his  compassion,  there  is  no  depth 
of  sin — no  extent  of  it — no  gray -haired  iniquity,  his 
Mercy  would  not  forgive !  Eevealed  Mercy  is  the  very 
burden  of  the  Gospel.  Ye,  impenitent  and  unbelieving 
sinners,  ought  to  be  melted  by  it.  Ye,  fearful  and  sus- 
picious of  God,  ought  to  bear  the  message  of  Mercy  home 
to  your  own  souls.  You  ought  to  say  to  yourselves, 
each  one  of  you :  I  see  how  it  is ;  I  see  God  is  of  such 
mercy,  that  all  the  magnificence  and  goodness  of  the 
material  world  could  not  reveal  it ;  I  see  how  it  operates ; 
I  trace  it  from  the  manger-cradle  to  the  marble  tomb 
of  the  Son  of  God ;  I  see  where  it  extends ;  I  stand 
on  the  outskirts  of  an  opening  eternity,  and,  glancing 
my  eyes  upward  to  the  throne  of  the  Almighty  God,  I 
perceive  its  thunders  are  hushed,  and  an  innumerable 
company  of  happy  spirits,  once  sinful  and  unworthy  as 
I,  now  forgiven  and  loved  of  God,  bathed  in  the  light 


284  THE,  MERCY  OF  GOD. 

and  glories  of  immortality :  I  see  (ye  ouglit  to  say  it), 
I  see,  there  is  mercy  for  me :  the  Gospel  takes  me  Tip, 
where  Keason  and  the  Light  of  Kature  forsook  me,  and 
tells  me  what  the  infinite  God  can  do,  about  the  sins  of 
this  guilty  soul,  and  its  deathless  destinies  in  eternity. 
Iiuill  arise  and  go  to  my  Father.  Yes,  God  is  my  Father 
still ;  I  will  say  unto  him,  Father^  I  have  sinned  against 
heaven,  I  am,  no  rnore  worthy  to  he  called  thy  son  !  Well, 
Go !  go  in  welcome !  go,  and  live !  go  now  !  go,  to  fall 
into  the  hands  of  the  Lord,  for  his  mercies  are  great !  (jo, 
and  guilt  can  not  ruin  you — hell  can  not  claim  you !  He 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  will  say.  This  my  son  was 
dead  and  is  alive  again,  was  lost,  and  is  found. 

"  Saved  !  the  deed  shall  spread  new  glory 
Through  the  courts,  the  crowds  above  ! 
Angels  tell  the  blissful  story, 

A  sinner  saved — for  God  is  love  1" 

What  will  you  do  ?  Put  the  question  to  your  own 
soul — ^thou,  my  immortal  spirit,  bound  to  eternity  and 
cannot  tarry,  my  own  soul,  what  will  you  do  ?  Will  you 
have  this  mercy,  this  heaven  for  your  own  ? 

"  Say,  will  you  to  Mount  Zion  go  ? 
Say,  will  you  have  this  Christ  or  no  ?" 

When  God  shall  make  up  his  jewels,  it  shall  be  known 
in  heaven  whether  you  spurned  his  Mercy  to-day ! 


do^  iia  Iteasitre  in  tlje  §m\\}  of  t|e  aalicfuif* 

(shown  fkom  the  purposes  of  god.) 


As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure   in  the  death 
of  the  wicked. — Ezekiel,  xxxiii.  11. 


TN"  these  words,  God  affirms  sometliing  about  himself. 
It  is  no  new  idea  to  the  minds  of  this  congregation, 
that  the  character  of  Grod  is  the  leading  idea  in  religion. 
Scarcely  any  theme  of  instruction  is  more  difficult 
than  the  regard  of  the  Deity  for  a  sinner.  To  give  to 
the  revolted  subject  of  Grod's  righteous  government  a 
correct  apprehension  of  the  feelings  with  which  his  God 
regards  him,  is  an  attempt  attended  with  peculiar  embar- 
rassments. These  arise,  not  so  much  from  the  obscurity 
of  the  subject  itself,  as  from  the  strong  tendency  to  mis- 
apprehend it.  There  is  something  in  the  nature  of  the 
case  which  contributes  a  great  obstacle  to  correct  appre- 
hension. "When  we  speak  of  the  Deity  as  righteous,  and 
man  as  under  his  rule,  there  is  something  of  accusation 
immediately  conceived.  Conscience  goes  to  work.  The 
hearer  at  once  feels  that  there  is  a  design  to  reprove 
him ;  and  the  consequence  of  this  feeling  is,  he  puts  him- 
self on  the  defence.  And  even  if  we  avoid  all  accusing- 
terms — ^if  the  Bible  avoids  them — if  we  do  not  say  that 
man  is  unrighteous — if   we   take   pains   to    avoid    all 


286  GOD  NO  PLEASUSE  IN  THE 

metliods  of  expression  whicli  bring  his  own  character  to 
mind,  and  strive  to  present  the  subject  in  such  a  manner 
that  he  may  examine  it  without  the  excitements  of  preju- 
dice, and  as  an  unbiased  spectator,  we  are  not  able,  after 
all,  to  accomplish  the  designs — the  failure  always  shows 
our  deficiency  of  skill  in  persuasion,  and  should  humble 
us  as  preachers.  The  truth  is,  if  we  present  the  subject  in 
the  abstract,  it  will  not  be  received  so  by  the  hearer.  If 
we  do  not  bring  him  into  the  question,  he  will  bring 
himself  in ;  neither  our  art  nor  eloquence  can  avoid  it. 
And  he  usually  comes  prepared  to  defend  himself,  in 
some  manner  or  in  some  degree,  from  the  imputation 
which  his  own  consciousness  has  suggested.  Guilt  is 
suspicious :  This  is  John  the  Baptist  risen  from  the  dead. 
We  can  not  speak  of  those  attributes  of  the  Deity  neces- 
sarily associated  with  his  being  reconciled  to  an  offender, 
without  awakening  something  of  the  self-love  and  pride, 
if  not  something  of  the  prejudice  of  him  who  still  needs 
reconciliation.  The  nature  of  the  case,  therefore,  renders 
it  hard  to  give  the  proper  impression  to  such  a  one.  The 
Deity  will  be  regarded,  by  those  who  have  never  been 
taught  by  the  Spirit,  in  some  measure  as  an  enemy; 
and  in  such  a  case,  surely,  it  would  be  the  hight  of 
human  candor  to  examine  his  character  and  his  offers 
with  unprejudiced  fairness. 

We  are  far  from  believing  that  most  men  design  to 
run  into  this  abuse.  However  self-love  or  self-respect 
might  lead  them  to  plead  their  cause  strongly  if  they 
were  to  speak  upon  it,  we  are  far  from  supposing  they 
soberly  intend  to  be  uncandid  when  only  called  upon  to 
think.  To  deceive  and  willingly  ruin  themselves  is  a 
thing  distant  from  their  designs.  No  man  is  willing  to 
deceive  and  destroy  himself. 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  287 

But  men  desire  to  avoid  the  present  unhappiness 
which  the  truth  might  create.  Their  hearts  are  opposed 
to  it.  And  for  these  reasons  they  hazard  the  unhappy- 
consequences  of  the  future.  In  this  sense  they  are  guilty 
of  wiUing  self-deception  and  its  wretched  results.  For 
these  reasons  they  are  not  apt  to  look  impartially  at  the 
character  of  God. 

But  this  matter  is  no  less  important  than  difficult. 
An  error  here  is  particularly  unfortunate  and  hazardous. 
All  our  ideas  of  religion  are  intimately  connected  with 
the  character  of  God.  That  character  lays  the  founda- 
tion of  all  that  man  can  hope,  and  of  what  man  must  be. 
And  if  we  have  a  false  notion  of  that  character,  we  shall 
have  false  notions  of  religion  ;  the  God  we  worship  will 
be  an  imaginary  God ;  the  homage  we  render  will  be 
agreeable  to  our  misconceptions ;  our  religion,  begun  in 
error,  will  end  in  wretchedness,  and  we  ourselves  shall 
become  those  of  whom  it  is  said,  deceiving  and  being  de- 
ceived. 

It  becomes  us,  therefore,  to  examine  such  a  subject  in 
all  its  connections  and  with  the  utmost  candor.  To 
shield  ourselves  from  the  truth  can  be  of  no  lasting 
benefit,  and  may  be,  in  the  end,  of  most  awful  disad- 
vantage. 

And,  perhaps,  there  are  few  points  where  we  need  this 
caution  more  than  we  do  when  God  tells  us  of  his  mercy. 
The  text  we  have  just  read  to  you  is  one  of  those 
passages  in  which  God  condescends  to  meet  one  of  those 
complaints  which  our  hearts  are  apt  to  make  against 
him.  He  here  exonerates  himself.  He  declares  what  is 
his  disposition  in  regard  to  sinners,  and  thus  removes 
one  of  those  vain  excuses  which  men  sometimes  weave 
to  themselves  for  continuing  in  their  wickedness.     As  I 


288  GOD  NO  PLEASURE  IN  THE 

live,  saith  the  Lord  Ood,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
the  wicked.  The  design  of  this  expression  seems  to  be,  to 
correct  our  ideas  of  the  feelings  of  God,  when  we  have  run 
so  far  into  error  as  to  think  him  capable  of  pleasure  in 
our  destruction.  Human  hearts  do  often  meet  the  pecu- 
liar emphasis  of  this  declaration.  There  are  those  who 
have  no  religion,  and  who  are  prevented  from  making 
any  determined  efforts  to  attain  it,  because  they  are  un- 
happily persuaded  into  the  opinion  that  the  pleasure  of 
God  is  opposed  to  their  salvation.  This  passage  was  de- 
signed to  correct  them.  There  are  those  who  allege  the 
controlling  power  of  God,  their  dependence  upon  him, 
and  his  designs  and  dispositions,  as  a  kind  of  apology  for 
their  irreligion.  This  passage  was  designed  to  rebuke 
them.  There  are  those  (and  would  to  God  there  were 
more  of  them)  who  are  desirous  of  securing  eternal  life, 
but,  sensible  of  their  sins,  are  afraid  to  approach  God, 
lest  there  be  something  in  his  character  unfavorable  to 
their  salvation.  This  passage  was  designed  to  encourage 
them,  to  remove  that  despondency  which  prohibits  action, 
and  animate  with  that  vigor  which  hope  alone  inspires. 

The  text  is  in  itself  an  unqualified  declaration  of  God, 
that  he  does  not  take  pleasure  in  the  destruction  of  the 
wicked.  The  declaration  is  needed.  The  wicked  some- 
times half  believe  he  does.  Such  a  belief  is  an  injury  to 
them.  God  would  have  them  abandon  it.  He  here 
condescends  to  exculpate  himself,  and,  consequently,  his 
conduct  in  relation  to  sinners,  and  thus  would  bring 
them  to  take  courage  in  seeking  God,  or  take  the  blame 
of  their  ruin  upon  themselves. 

Now,  the  sentiment  which  this  declaration  opposes 
takes  its  rise,  and  is  sustained  in  the  mind  of  the  wicked, 
by  considerations  drawn  especially  from  three  sources : 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  289 

The  Purposes  of  God ; 

The  Nature  of  Beligion  ;   and 

The  Condition  of  the  Wicked. 

Could  we  give  men  just  impressions  about  God,  they 
would  need  no  other  instruction  on  these  points.  If  we 
could  throw  the  blaze  of  purity  across  these  springs  of 
error,  it  would  dry  up  the  fountains  of  falsehood,  and 
stop  the  flow  of  those  streams  that  waft  so  many  down 
to  the  abysses  of  the  damned.  A  just  impression  about 
God  would  teach  man  that  the  Divine  purposes  do  not 
oppose  his  salvation.  A  just  impression  about  God 
would  teach  man  that  the  religion  enjoined  upon  him  is 
not  so  severe  as  to  compel  him  to  be  lost.  A  just  im- 
pression about  God  would  teach  the  wicked  that  God 
has  not  placed  him  in  such  a  condition  in  this  world  that 
his  ruin  is  unavoidable. 

But  to  meet  definitely  the  sentiment  to  which  this  text 
is  opposed,  let  us  consider  its  three  sources  separately, 
and  endeavor  to  justify  the  declaration  of  the  text. 

I.  The  Purposes  of  God.  This  will  occupy  us  in  the 
present  discourse.  The  others  will  occupy  us  in  two 
other  discourses,  to  come  afterward. 

The  perfections  which  enlightened  reason  always  con- 
cedes to  the  Deity,  oblige  us  to  believe  that  he  has 
created  nothing  which  he  did  not  want — nothing  which 
has  frustrated  his  expectations.  Before  he  exercised  one 
act  of  creating  power,  he  saw  all  the  consequences  of  his 
creation,  knowing  then,  as  perfectly  as  now,  and  as  per- 
fectly as  he  ever  will  know,  all  the  results  of  felicity  and 
wretchedness  that  would  ever  be  realized  in  heaven, 
earth,  and  hell.  And  with  all  these  before  him,  as  the 
certain  consequences  of  that  constitution  of  things  he  was 

13 


290  GOD   NO   PLEASURE    IN   THE 

about  to  establisli,  and  that  creative  energy  lie  was  about 
to  exert,  still  he  resolved,  that  under  such  a  constitution, 
such  a  creation  should  rise.  He  spake  and  it  was  done. 
Having  acted  with  previous  knowledge  of  all  the  results 
of  his  actions,  nothing  that  occurs  can  be  contrary  to  his 
expectations. 

So  far,  enlightened  Eeason  coincides  with  the  Word 
of  God,  and  is  satisfied  with  it.  But  here  they  sepa- 
rate. Not  that  they  are  contrary  to  each  other ;  but  that 
reason  has  reached  her  limits,  beyond  which  she  can 
never  pass,  except  under  the  guidance  of  revelation,  and 
she  must  trust  that  revelation  henceforth  at  every  step, 
or  wander  in  darkness  and  error.  Because  God  is  the 
author  of  all  creatures  that  exist,  and  knew,  before  their 
existence,  all  the  results  of  it,  we  are  sometimes  apt  to 
conceive  of  him  as  the  sole  author  of  all  the  miseries  of 
his  creatures.  And  as  his  power  is  sufficient  to  accom- 
plish all  his  purposes,  we  draw  the  conclusion,  that  if  we 
perish,  it  must  be  because  he  is  pleased  with  our  de- 
struction. 

Now,  I  wish, 

1.  To  convince  you  that  we  have  no  right  to  draw 
any  such  conclusion. 

2.  To  show  you  where  such  a  principle  of  reasoning 
and  drawing  inferences  would  lead. 

8.  To  name  to  you  the  considerations  which  should 
correct  us. 

1.  We  have  no  right  to  conclude  that  the  Almighty  is 
the  sole  cause  of  the  miseries  of  his  creatures,  from  the 
fact  that  he  is  the  Author  of  their  existence,  that  he 
knew,  before  he  created,  all  the  consequences  of  his 
creating,  and  that  none  of  his  expectations  and  purposes 
are  frustrated. 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  291 

The  error  of  this  method  of  reasoning  lies  in  the  in- 
ferring  of  consequeiices  from  principles  that  are  unknown. 
"What  are  the  principles?  The  purposes  of  God. 
What  are  the  consequences  ?  God's  pleasure  in  the 
sinner's  destruction,  and  the  sinner's  unhappiness  that 
he  is  subject  to  the  purposes  of  God.  But  who  is 
acquainted  with  these  principles  ?  Who  has  fathomed 
the  eternal  purposes  of  Jehovah  ?  Who  has  known  the 
mind  of  the  Lord,  or^  being  his  counsellor^  has  taught  him? 
The  purposes  of  God  are  beyond  our  reach.  We  know 
he  has  his  purposes  and  will  accomplish  them,  because 
he  has  told  us  so,  and  because  they  are  necessary  to  the 
perfection  of  his  character.  But  who  knows  what  they 
are  ?  Who  has  plunged  into  their  depths  ?  Who  has 
traced  their  arrangements,  their  combination,  their 
extent  ?  Who  will  undertake  to  spread  them  out  before 
us,  and  tell  us  how  they  affect  us  ?  They  are  placed 
beyond  our  reach.  They  are  deep  in  themselves,  and 
obscurely  taught  in  the  Scriptures,  and  no  man  can 
boast  of  understanding  their  nature,  their  combination, 
the  mode  of  their  application.  How,  then,  can  any  man 
presume  to  draw  conclusions  from  them.  (We  never 
do.  Oar  hearers  should  not.)  They  are  premises  which 
a  man  does  not  know.  He  knows  only  in  the  general. 
He  is  ignorant  of  their  nature,  their  power,  their  com- 
bination, and  he  can  tell  of  no  instance  of  their  ap- 
plication, except  those  which  God  has  taught  him. 
What  kind  of  logic  then,  must  he  use  who  will  draw 
inferences  from  such  unknown  premises  ?  Tell  me  in 
what  method  the  Purposes  of  God  apply  to  the  ruin  of 
a  sinner,  and  I  will  consent,  for  ever  afterwards,  that  you 
make  the  application.  Unfold  to  me  the  Divine  Pur- 
poses— tear  away  the  clouds  and  darkness  that  are  round 


292  GOD  NO   PLEASURE   IN  THE 

ohout  the  Deitj — "iinseal  the  secret  book  of  God,  never 
yet  read  by  the  bigbest  serapbim  ia  glory ;  and  then  I 
will  confess  your  right  to  reason  from  the  purposes  of  God. 

All  that  we  know  of  the  purposes  of  God  is  general. 
There  is  nothing  special  or  particular  in  our  knowledge. 
Our  conclusions,  therefore,  must  not  run  beyond  our 
premises.  Our  knowledge  of  God's  purposes  is  not  so 
particular  that  we  can  tell  how  they  affect  any  action  or 
any  result.  God  has  not  told  us  ;  and  when  men  have 
attempted  to  tell,  they  have  always  become  bewildered. 
We  have  no  right,  therefore,  to  attempt  to  determine 
particular  questions  by  all  that  we  know  of  these  obscure 
general  principles.  When  we  attempt  it,  we  are  wield- 
ing an  instrument  too  heavy  for  us,  whose  edge  and 
temper  are  unknown.  It  was  made,  not  for  an  arm  like 
ours,  but  for  the   arm  of  the  Omnipotent  One. 

Before  we  can  apply  the  purjooses  of  God  to  particular 
things — to  our  conduct,  our  destiny,  or  the  pleasure  of 
the  Deity — we  miist  know  the  method  of  application ; 
we  must  know  the  particular  character  of  the  purposes  ; 
we  must  be  able  to  understand  hoiu  they  affect  the  par- 
ticulars. Before  I  can  draw  safe  conclusions  from  the 
principles  of  science,  I  must  know  what  these  principles 
are  ;  I  must  understand  the  manner  in  which  they  apply 
to  the  subject;  and,  theirefore,  I  must  understand  their 
nature  and  their  combinations.  But  no  man  has  such 
knowledge  of  the  purposes  of  God.  And,  consequently, 
no  man  has  any  right  to  make  such  an  application  of 
them  as  implies  this  knowledge.  No  man  has  any  right 
to  conclude  that  God  has  any  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
the  wicked,  on  the  ground  that  his  purposes  are  at  all 
opposed  to  their  salvation.  This  is  the  first  thing  we 
proposed  to  show. 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  293 

2.  The  second  was  to  show  to  what  results  the  prin- 
ciple of  reasonings  against  which  we  contend  would 
inevitably  conduct  us.  If  it  is  lawful  for  us  to  infer, 
from  the  purposes  of  God,  that  he  has  pleasure  in 
the  destruction  of  the  wicked,  then  it  is  lawful  for  us, 
on  the  same  principle,  to  infer  that  he  has  pleasure  in 
that  wickedness  itself,  which  leads  to  destruction.  For 
what  is  the  principle  on  which  the  first  inference 
is  made?  It  is  simply  this — that  because  God  is  the 
author  of  every  being  that  exists,  and  every  thing 
that  results  from  that  existence,  he  must  be  the  sole 
cause  of  all  the  miseries  of  his  creatures,  and,  conse- 
quently (as  he  has  every  thing  in  his  own  way),  must  have 
pleasure  in  the  destruction  of  the  wicked.  But  the 
wickedness  which  ends  in  misery  is  as  much  a  result  of 
his  having  formed  his  creatures,  as  is  the  misery  itself 
And,  consequent^,  if  he  is  pleased  with  all  the  results 
of  his  creating  power,  he  is  pleased  with  the  luichedness 
of  men.  The  principle  will  apply  here  as  well  as  to 
their  destruction ;  and  you  may  say,  therefore,  that  be- 
cause God  is  the  author  of  every  being  that  exists,  and 
every  thing  that  results  from  that  existence,  he  must  be 
the  sole  cause  of  all  the  wickedness  of  his  creatures, 
and,  consequently  (as  he  has  every  thing  in  his  own 
way),  must  have  pleasure  in  the  wickedness  of  the  wicked ! 
There  is  no  avoiding  this  argument.  If  God  must  have 
pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked,  because  he  foresaw 
it^  and  yet  determined  to  create  them,  he  must,  for  the 
same  reason, have  pleasure  in  their  iniquity  I  We  may 
conclude,  therefore,  on  this  principle  of  reasoning,  that 
God  is  pleased  with  sin  1  This  is  the  result  of  attempt- 
ing to  reason  from  the  secret  purposes  of  God. 

Again.    The  design  of  the  argument  we  are  combat- 


294  GOD  NO  PLEASURE   IN  THE 

ting,  is  to  prove  that  men  do  not  destroy  themselves. 
The  argument  itself  is,  that  such  destruction  is  agreeable 
to  God's  purposes,  and,  therefore,  is  unavoidable — it  was 
predestinated.  But  if  such  destruction  is  agreeable  to 
God's  purposes,  and  is,  therefore,  unavoidable,  then,  on 
the  very  same  principle  of  reasoning,  the  guilt  which 
incurs  it  is  agreeable  to  God's  purposes,  and  is,  therefore, 
unavoidable.  We  may  conclude,  therefore,  on  this  prin- 
ciple, that  there  is  no  such  thing  as  accountahiUti/- — all 
the  conduct  of  men  being  the  result  of  an  unavoidable 
necessity.  Yea,  therefore,  we  may  conclude  also,  that 
there  is  no  such  thing  as  sin,  all  the  conduct  of  men 
being  the  result  of  an  unavoidable  necessity !  We  may 
call,  therefore,  the  incendiary  with  his  torch,  the  drunk- 
ard  with  his  bowl,  and  the  assassin  with  his  steel,  as 
innocent  and  pure  as  the  spirits  that  never  fell !  These 
are  other  results  of  attempting  to  reason  from  the  secret 
purposes  of  God. 

The  inevitable  consequence,  therefore,  of  this  method 
of  reasoning  would  be  to  destroy  all  idea  of  moral  char- 
acter among  men ;  and,  consequently,  to  prove  him  as 
pure,  who  is  suffering  for  his  crimes,  as  he  who  is  honored 
for  his  virtues.  That  man  who  excuses  his  irreligion  by 
the  argument  of  God's  purposes,  has  no  right  to  resent 
an  insult  or  resist  an  injury,  to  the  inconvenience  of  its 
perpetrators.  How  could  they  avoid  it?  This  is  an- 
other result  to  which  this  style  of  argument  would  lead. 
It  would  overthrow  all  human  law,  and  all  common 
sense. 

3.  The  consideration  Avhich  should  correct  this  error 
is,  the  narrow  limits  of  our  understandings.  We  ought 
to  bear  in  mind,  that  there  are  depths  into  which  it  is 
dangerous  to  plunge  ourselves.     The  purposes  of  God 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  295 

he  has  never  unfolded  to  us.  He  has  nowhere  shown  us 
how  far  thej  extend  specifically — how  they  apply,  nor 
traced  for  us  their  combinations.  He  has  not  told  us  to 
receive  them  as  our  rule  of  action,  to  employ  them  to 
justify  our  conduct,  or  to  measure  our  innocence  or  our 
criminality.  The  connection  which  these  purposes  of 
the  Deit}^  have  with  what  he  is  constantly  bringing  to 
pass,  is  a  connection  wholly  unknown  to  us:  God  has 
not  told  us  what  it  is,  nor  given  us  sagacity  sufiicient  to 
discover  it.  And  here  is  the  primary  error  of  attempt- 
ing to  draw  conclusions  from  the  Divine  purposes.  AYe 
are  pretending  to  employ  in  our  reasoning  a  connection 
of  which  we  are  utterly  ignorant.  We  have  not  the  least 
knowledge  of  the  nature  of  the  connection  which  exists 
between  the  purposes  of  Jehovah  and  the  actions  of  his 
creatures.  And  yet,  we  are  apt  to  think  and  talk  about 
this  connection  as  if  it  were  a  thing  we  well  understood — 
as  if  it  were  just  the  common  link  which  joins  causes 
and  effects.  Let  the  recollection  of  our  incapacities — our 
limited  understandings — our  small  degree  of  knowledge, 
correct  our  error. 

And  what,  as  ministers,  we  say  to  other  people,  we  are 
willing  to  apply  to  ourselves.  If  it  is  Avrong  for  the 
hearer  to  argue  his  innocence  from  the  purposes  of  God, 
we  confess  it  is  no  less  erroneous  for  the  preacher  to 
attempt,  from  these  purposes,  to  prove  that  his  argument 
is  false.  The  attempt  has  been  made  a  thousand  times, 
and  a  thousand  times  it  has  failed.  Should  any  assert 
that  his  impiety  is  not  his  fault,  and  that  his  condemna- 
tion would  be  not  from  any  fault  of  his  own,  because  it 
would  be  the  consequence  of  the  purposes  of  the  Deity, 
and  so  connected  with  these  purposes,  that  he  could 
not  avoid  it;  we  confess  our  inability  to  show  directly 


296  GOD   NO   PLEASURE   IN   THE 

from  tliose  purposes  that  lie  is  mistaken.  We  have  other 
ways  of  showing  his  mistake ;  but  we  confess  our  ina- 
bility to  show  it  in  this  way.  We  could  show,  in  this 
way,  that  his  argument  was  not  conclusive,  and  that  is 
all ;  we  could  not  prove  from  these  purposes  the  opposite 
doctrine.  We  shall  see  pretty  soon  in  what  manner  this 
error  might  be  corrected,  when  we  show,  from  other 
sources,  that  the  pleasure  or  purposes  of  the  Almighty 
are  not  the  reason  of  the  sinner's  ruin.  But  we  know  so 
little  of  the  eternal  counsels  of  God,  that  we  are  unable, 
from  that  kind  of  knowledge,  to  affirm  what  is  or  what 
is  not  their  influence.  To  have  the  power  to  make  such 
an  affirmation,  we  must  attain  a  perfect  knowledge  of  the 
purposes  of  God  ;  we  must  know  all  their  combinations  ; 
we  must  unfold  to  ourselves  the  manner  of  their  influ- 
ence ;  and  then  we  must  place  them  side  by  side  with 
the  dispositions  of  the  sinner,  and  compare  them  with 
those  dispositions  so  exactly  as  to  prove  by  that  com- 
parison the  precise  nature  and  extent  of  their  influence. 
But  if  we  should  attempt  to  do  this,  we  should  be  run- 
ning into  the  same  error  in  reasoning  of  which  those  are 
guilty  who  reason  from  the  purposes  of  God  to  show 
their  innocence,  and  the  pleasure  of  God  in  their  ruin. 
This  error  consists,  as  we  have  just  seen,  in  reasoning 
from  unknown  premises. 

We  will  take,  therefore,  to  ourselves  the  caution  we 
gave  to  them.  We  will  confess  we  can  not  fathom  the 
purposes  of  God.  Standing  by  the  darkness  that  girds 
the  throne  of  the  Eternal,  we  will  confess  our  eye  is  too 
dim  to  penetrate  the  cloud,  and  pass  onward  to  the 
glories  that  lie  beyond.  Contemplating  the  infinity  of 
the  Divine  Mind,  we  will  receive  the  rebuke  of  our  little- 
ness:  It  is  as  high  as  heaven^  what  canst  thou  do?  deeper 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  297 

than  hell,  what  canst  thou  know  ?  But  we  will  never 
mourn  the  darkness  of  the  cloud  that  pavilions  the 
habitation  of  God,  as  long  as  the  bow  of  promise  sweetly 
rests  upon  its  bosom,  and,  spanning  heaven,  extends  its 
covenant  arch  down  to  earth  to  embrace  it. 

Bat  though  we  are  incapable  of  unfolding  the  Divine 
Purposes,  and  proving  thereby,  that  the  Deity  has  no 
pleasure  in  the  destruction  of  the  wicked,  and  that  these 
purposes  do  not  render  sin  and  death  unavoidable,  yet 
we  have  other  methods  of  showing  this.  He  who  alone 
knows  perfectly  those  purposes  and  the  dispositions  of 
the  wicked,  has  told  us,  and  we  have,  therefore,  the 
strongest  of  all  possible  evidence.  If  he  had  not  told  us, 
we  confess  our  utter  inability  to  have  ever  proved,  from  all 
we  know  of  these  purposes,  that  they  do  not  violate  our 
liberty,  and  render  sin  and  its  eternal  punishment  una- 
voidable. But  he  has  told  us  they  do  not ;  and  if  we 
will  not  credit  his  testimony,  what  will  we  credit? 

1.  He  has  told  us,  in  the  language  of  the  text:  As  I 
live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
the  iviched.  If  the  purposes  of  God  were  of  such  a  nature 
as  to  compel  the  wicked  to  his  wickedness,  and  thus 
bring  him  to  eternal  death  unavoidably,  this  declaration 
could  not  be  true. 

2.  He  has  told  us  so  in  those  explicit  declarations 
which  charge  our  destruction  upon  ourselves :  Oh,  Israel^ 
thou  hast  destroyed  thyself.  NoW;  if  the  Divine  purposes 
forced  men  to  sin,  or  placed  insurmountable  obstacles  in 
the  way  of  their  salvation,  I  can  conceive  of  no  sense  in 
which  this  declaration  could  be  true. 

3.  He  has  told  us  so  in  those  numerous  passages  which 
expressly  declare,  (what  our  text  implies,)  that  is,  he  is 
not  willing  that  any  should  perish,  but  that  all  should  come 

13* 


298  GOD  NO  PLEASUKE   IN  THE 

to  repentance.  Now,  if  the  purposes  of  God  were  of  sucTi 
a  nature  as  to  prove  the  pleasure  of  God  in  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  wicked,  we  might  change  this  declaration  of 
Holy  Writ ;  we  might  affirm,  he  loould  not  that  all  men 
should  be  saved  ;  he  is  willing  that  some  should  perish, 
but  not  that  all  should  come  to  repentance.  But  who  dare 
thus  trifle  with  the  Bible?  Let  God  he  true^  hut  every 
man  a  liar. 

4r.  He  has  told  us  so  in  those  tender  expostulations  and 
earnest  entreaties,  which  he  employs  to  win  sinners  to 
himself.  Turn  ye,  turn  ye^  for  why  luill  ye  die  f  is  only 
one  among  a  thousand  passages  which  express  the  same 
tender  sentiment.  Now,  did  the  purposes  of  the  Deity 
force  the  sinner — did  they  confine  him  in  the  bondage  of 
corruption — did  they  prohibit  success  in  attaining  the 
favor  of  God,  (as  some  of  you  sometimes  affirm;)  where 
would  be  the  sincerity  of  God  in  calling  him  to  iurn^ 
while  he  himself  had  rendered  it  an  impossible  thing  ? 

5.  He  has  told  us  the  same  thing  in  those  lamentations 
which  he  utters  over  the  doom  of  the  wicked.  Oh  that 
my  people  had  hearkened  unto  me!  Oh,,  Jerusalem^  Jeru- 
salem !  Now,  how  unworthy  of  the  Deity  would  such 
utterances  be,  if  he  had  pleasure  in  the  fact  that  they  had 
not  hearkened  unto  him,  so  much  as  to  have  rendered  it 
impossible  by  his  immutable  purposes  that  they  should  ? 

6.  He  has  told  us  the  same  thing  when  he  calls  us  to 
contemplate  those  attributes  with  which  he  clothes  him- 
self— attributes  of  mercy,  forbearance,  long-suffering  and 
tender  compassion.  Take  one  of  them,  his  long-suffering,, 
as  an  example.  He  exalts  his  mercy,  by  naming  the 
long-suffering  which  continues  the  offer  of  it :  The  Lord 
God^  gracious,  merciful^  long-suffering.  So  he  speaks  of 
himself.     But  now,  if  the  purposes  of  God  prohibit  re- 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  299 

pentance,  how  can  lie  be  any  more  merciful  by  exercis- 
ing long-suffering  witli  a  sinner,  and  giving  liim  year  after 
year  to  repent  in,  than  if  he  exercised  no  such  forbear- 
ance, but  cut  him  off  the  moment  he  began  to  sin? 
More :  if  the  predestination  of  God  prohibits  repentance, 
then  the  long-suffering  of  God  seems  to  be  directly  the 
o])posite  to  mercy ;  for  surely,  by  granting  a  wicked  man 
three-score  years  and  ten,  while  all  the  time  he  prohibits 
his  repentance,  he  is  only  forcing  him  to  enhance  his 
wickedness,  and  ripen  for  a  deeper  condemnation.  Were 
this  the  case,  long-suffering  would  be  the  most  dreadful 
attribute  of  God ;  and  you  ought  to  pray  God — Smite  me 
now !  Wake  thy  thunderbolts  of  vengeance  !  Execute 
now  on  my  devoted  head  the  penalty  of  my  guilt,  before 
my  unavoidable  sins  have  prepared  me  for  a  deeper 
hell! 

Now,  in  all  these  ways  (and  we  could  name  a  thousand 
others),  God  has  told  us  that  his  purposes  do  not  violate 
our  liberty,  and  never  can  show  that  he  has  any  j^leasure 
at  all  in  the  death  of  the  wicked.  Let  us  believe,  my 
hearers,  what  he  has  told  us.  Let  us  not  pretend  to 
reason  from  the  secret  purposes  of  God.  Those  pur- 
poses are  not  the  rule  of  our  conduct  or  the  measure  of 
our  innocence.  They  rest  with  God.  They  are  the  rules 
which  he  has  been  pleased  to  establish  for  his  own  con- 
duct, not  for  ours.  They  are  only  his  determination  to 
govern  his  universe,  just  as  he  does  govern  it.  With 
God  let  us  leave  them.  He  has  not  so  definitely  taught 
us  what  they  are,  and  how  they  affect  us,  that  we  have 
any  security  at  all  when  we  take  them  as  the  basis  of 
our  reasonings.  We  have  other  premises,  from  which 
we  may  reason  securely,  because  they  are  definitely 
known.     But  when  we  plunge  ourselves  into  those  ob- 


300  COD   NO   FLEAS UBE   IN  THE 

sciirities  where  the  Bible  slieds  no  light,  our  way  is  dark- 
ness, and  commonly  its  end  is  error.  Let  ns  confine 
ourselves  within  the  limits  that  God  has  assigned  to  ns. 
Let  ns  believe  that  God  has  his  purposes,  because  he  has 
told  us  so,  and  because  they  are  necessary  to  the  perfec- 
tion of  his  existence ;  and  let  ns  be  willing  to  preach, 
and  willing  to  hear  of  these  purposes  all  that  the  sacred 
Scriptures  contain.  But  let  us  not  pretend  to  understand 
the  connection  of  these  purposes  with  our  conduct  or  our 
destiny ;  for  this  God  has  not  told  us.  We  are  left  in 
ignorance  of  many  points  respecting  these  purposes. 
Their  combinations,  their  efficiency  upon  the  universe, 
the  mode  of  their  application,  are  all  beyond  us.  Let  not 
the  preacher,  therefore,  vainly  imagine  that  he  can  so 
unfold  them  as  to  silence  every  objection,  or  satisfy 
every  honest  difficulty  ;  and  let  not  the  hearer,  with  the 
same  audacious  vanity,  suppose  that  he  knows  enough 
about  the  purposes  of  God  to  prove  that  the  wicked  must 
unavoidably  perish  as  they  do,  because  God  has  phas- 
ure  in  their  death.  Let  the  preacher  silence  objection 
and  solve  difficulty  by  employing  other  truths — truths 
more  fully  revealed  and  more  accurately  understood  ; 
by  pronouncing  the  language  of  this  text :  As  I  Uve^  saith 
the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked  ; 
by  saying  to  the  sinner,  Thou  hast  destroyed  thyself.  And 
let  the  hearer  believe  it.  It  is  the  direct  testimony  of 
Him  who  can  not  lie.  How  much  more  worthy  of 
credit  than  those  foolish  conclusions  which  men  foolishly 
gather  from  premises  unknown. 

This  text  is  a  vindication  of  God's  character.  He 
comes  down  to  meet  the  prejudices  and  difficulties  of 
sinful  men,  to  teach  them  that  their  ideas  about  the 


DEATH  OP  THE  WICKED.  801 

pleasure  of  God  in  purposing  tlieir  eternal  death,  are 
altogether  false.  He  announces  their  falsehood  in  the 
most  emphatic  manner :  As  I  Uve^  saith  the  Lord  God,  I 
have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  luicked.  As  Hive:  he 
knew  what  difficulties  would  perplex  our  minds ;  he 
knew  how  often  the  idea  would  intrude  itself  into  the 
heart  of  a  sinner,  that  the  benevolence  of  God  toward 
him  is  very  questionable.  He  knew  what  a  gloomy  use 
Satan  would  make  of  it  to  bind  the  captive  in  his  chains. 
He,  therefore,  utters  the  declaration  in  the  most  solemn 
style:  As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  7io  j^leasure  in 
the  death  of  the  wicked.  He  would  convince  every  wicked 
man  that  he  has  not,  in  any  way,  on  any  account,  the 
least  pleasure  in  his  death.  He  would  drive  that  gloomy 
opinion  from  every  mind  that  ever  dares  to  entertain  it. 
He  would  break  that  bond  of  Satan,  and  let  the  captive 
go  free. 

Of  this  whole  subject,  then,  you  may  make  specific  ap- 
plications. 

There  are  those  who  have  such  ideas  of  God  as  to 
keep  them  from  repentance.  Through  the  devices  of 
Satan  and  the  deceitfulness  of  sin,  they  are  led  to  think 
of  God's  purposes  as  an  apology  for  their  courge ;  they 
say,  if  they  are  on  the  road  to  ruin,  it  is  God's  pleasure. 
But  what  daring  impiety  is  this!  They  give  to  the 
Deity  the  most  unlovely  of  all  characters !  They  turn 
his  benevolence  into  malignity,  and  his  long-suffering 
into  a  trap  and  snare !  They  dare  to  lift  up  the  voice  of 
a  worm  of  the  dust,  and  contradict  the  very  oath  of  God ; 
they  say  he  has  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked ! 
Let  this  affirmation  of  God  rebuke  them ! 

There  are  those  who  have  sometimes  struggled  against 
the  power  of  sin  within  them,  impelled  by  fears  of  the 


802  GOD  NO   PLEASURE   IN  THR 

wrath  to  come,  but  wliose  attempts,  few,  perhaps,  and 
feeble,  have  not  been  successful.  Hence  they  conclude 
there  is  something  in  the  purposes  of  God  which  hinders 
their  deliverance.  They  are  not  (like  the  others  we  just 
mentioned)  accustomed  to  make  the  purposes  of  God 
their  apology  for  sin,  and  the  cause  of  their  feared  con- 
demnation. But  still,  the  purposes  of  God  are  their 
stumbling-block.  They  imagine  that  they  should  long 
since  have  been  Christians  had  not  God's  purposes  op- 
posed them. 

It  would  be  barbarous,  inhuman,  to  utter  a  harsh  word 
to  such  persons.  We  pity  them.  We  could  weep  over 
them.  We  know  the  deep  misery  of  their  situation,  for 
we  have  been  in  it ;  and  may  the  God  of  all  mercy  de- 
liver every  such  soul  from  the  bitterness  of  its  bitter 
bondage  !  And  if  there  is  one  such  in  this  assembly,  let 
me  tell  you  the  idea  which  afflicts  you  is  all  delusion ;  it 
is  a  device  of  the  Devil  to  keep  you  in  your  sins.  God 
has  no  pleasure  in  your  destruction.  His  purposes  are 
not  opposed  to  your  salvation.  They  offer  no  violence 
to  your  liberty.  They  constitute  no  obstacle  to  your 
religion  and  your  eternal  life. 

Let  me  expostulate  Avith  you.  Tell  me,  my  dear  fellow- 
sinner,  my  immortal  companion,  hastening  with  me  to 
the  tomb,  how  do  you  know  that  the  purposes  of  God 
oppose  3^ou  ?  Show  me  in  what  manner  they  affect  you  ? 
Point  me  to  the  connection  between  one  sinojle  desisfn  of 
Deity  and  one  single  instance  of  your  unhappiness? 
Prove  to  me  that  the  purposes  of  God  have^  in  any  in- 
stance, so  applied  to  you  as  to  become  the  least  obstacle 
to  your  salvation?  Do  this,  and  I  will  weep  tears  of 
blood  over  you,  and  blot  for  ever  from  my  creed  the  arti- 
cle that  seals  your  doom !     But  no — you  can  do  none  of 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  803 

tliese  things.  Sucli  an  opposition,  such  a  manner,  such 
a  connection,  such  an  application,  can  never  be  shown. 

Then  why  will  you  believe  it  ?  It  is  unsustainecl  by 
the  least  evidence.  It  is  opposed  to  the  very  oath  of 
God.  Let  this  oath  correct  you.  God  knows  better  than 
you  do,  and  his  word  assures  you  you  are  mistaken. 
Cast  aside,  then,  this  gloomy  delusion.  Watch  and  pray. 
Seek,  and  struggle,  and  agonize.  Be  assured  the  pur- 
poses of  God  do  not  oppose  you  in  your  attempts,  for  he 
has  no  pleasure  in  your  being  lost,  but  in  your  being 
saved. 

There  are  those  who  are  sensible  of  their  sins,  but  who 
fear  to  approach  the  Lord  God,  lest  there  should  be 
something  in  his  purposes  opposed  to  their  acceptance 
and  salvation.  This  is  a  fear  which  the  great  deceiver 
would  foster,  to  keep  such  a  sinner  at  a  distance  from  God. 
And  this  is  a  fear  which  the  declaration  of  the  text  ought 
for  ever  to  dispel.  Ko  sinner,  who  desires  to  be  recon- 
ciled to  God  in  Christ,  ever  finds  the  purposes  of  God 
opposed  to  him.  Great  and  long-continued  as  may  be  his 
sins,  God  is  ready  to  forgive.  Let  him  not  despair  on 
account  of  their  number  or  their  enormity.  Let  him  count 
them  all  over — let  him  weigh  their  aggi^avation — let 
him  tell  against  how  many  monitions  he  has  offended, 
how  many  cautions  he  has  abused,  how  many  warnings 
he  has  slighted,  how  many  sermons  have  been  lost  upon 
him;  let  him  swell  the  catalogue  till  memory  has 
reached  her  limits,  and  weigh  his  crimes  till  thought  is 
lost  in  the  wilderness-account ;  and,  after  all,  it  will  be 
true  that  the  purposes  of  God  are  no  obstacle  to  salva- 
tion— he  has  no  j)l^asure  in  tlie  death  of  the  wicked. 

Perish  who  will,  the  character  of  God  will  be  for  ever 
untarnished  and  lovely.     He  desires  the  happiness,  but 


804  GOD  NO  PLEASURE  IN  THE  DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED. 

not  the  damnation  of  sinners.  He  does  not  say  to  the 
wretcli  delighting  in  liis  iniquity,  It  is  my  purpose  that 
impels  you  to  it.  He  does  not  say  to  the  once  inquiring, 
but  now  careless  or  lingering  sinner,  You  failed,  because 
my  purpose  must  be  accomplished.  He  does  not  say  to 
the  anxious,  trembling  mortal,  now  asking  what  must  I 
do  to  be  saved  ? — You  must  perish,  because  your  sins  are 
so  great,  and  my  purpose  is  fixed.  No.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  opens  the  gates  of  heaven ;  he  offers  the  blood 
of  Christ ;  he  sends  the  Holy  Spirit ;  he  tells  of  mercy, 
forgiveness,  and  free  grace ;  and,  to  take  out  of  the  mouth 
of  the  lingering  sinner  his  last  apology,  he  records 
here  his  oath,  As  I  live,  I  have  no  2)leasure  in  the  death  of 
the  wicked. 

It  is  not  his  decree  that  fastens  you  in  sin,  and  pro- 
hibits your  repentance.  It  is  not  his  decree  that  bars 
heaveu,  and  denies  grace.  It  was  not  his  decree  that 
dug  hell,  and  kindled  the  fire  that  is  7iever  quenched.  No^ 
sinner,  no,  no  I  The  chains  that  bind  you  are  of  your 
own  forging.  The  grace  you  need  is  freely  offered. 
And  the  hell  into  which  you  are  plunging  is  kindled  up 
only  by  the  cherished  wickedness  which  God  entreats  you 
to  abandon !  Hear — hear  this  declaration  of  the  Lord 
God !  He  has  no  pleasure  in  your  deoih.  Let  neither 
earth  nor  hell  persuade  you  that  the  merciful  God  would 
have  you  perish!  Cast  aside  your  irrational  conclu- 
sions! Believe  the  testimony  of  the  Eternal!  Break 
the  enchantment  of  your  gloomy  conclusions,  and  an- 
chor your  eternal  hope  in  the  ocean  of  God's  mercy. 
You  may  be  saved — ^j^ou  can  be  saved.  For  the  Lord 
God  has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  loiched.  Do  not 
destroy  thyself 


(Soir  iia  llea^ur^  iit  tlje  §m\\}  of  tlje  SEicfut 

(SHOWN"  FKOM  THE  NATURE   OF  RELIGION.) 

As  I  live,    saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death 
of  the  wicked. — Ezekiel,  xxxiii.  11. 

ITTE  said,  on  a  former  occasion,  when  we   addressed 
'^'     you  from  these  words,  that  there  were,  with  some 
people,  three  matters  of  difficulty  in  religion,    against 
which  this  text  is  uttered  : — 

I.  The  Purposes  of  the  Deity. 

II.  The  Nature  of  Eeligion. 
in.  The  Condition  of  Man. 

From  all  these  sources  an  unbeliever  is  sometimes 
accustomed  to  draw  conclusions  unfavorable  to  his  sal- 
vation. The  partial  view  he  takes,  as  well  as  the 
erroneous  opinions  he  entertains,  is  apt  to  sustain  the 
misfortune  of  his  conclusions.  He  beholds,  in  the  pur- 
poses of  the  Deity,  as  he  believes  or  half-believes,  an 
insuperable  obstacle  to  his  salvation.  In  the  Nature  of 
Eeligion — that  religion  which  the  Bible  teaches  him  is 
necessary  to  his  salvation — he  finds  difficulties  which  he 
is  unable,  as  he  imagines,  to  overcome.  The  condition 
in  which  he  finds  himself,  as  a  sinner,  is  made  to  plead 


806  GOD  KO   PLEASURE   IN  THE 

his  excuse  for  neglect  of  salvation,  and  speaks  to  him  a 
comfortable  solace,  even  while  he  continues  in  his  sins. 
These  are  his  difficulties — these  the  sources  of  his  objec- 
tion— these  his  errors. 

To  the  first  of  these,  the  Purposes  of  God,  we  have 
already  attended.  The  second,  the  Nature  of  Eeligion, 
occupies  us  in  the  present  hour. 

Those  whose  minds  have  surmounted  one  difficulty 
in  religion  often  meet  with  another.  Driven  from  one 
stronghold  of  error,  we  are  apt  to  betake  ourselves  to 
another.  Such  creatures  we  are.  One  mistake  is  cor- 
rected, but  we  are  not  safe.  One  delusion  is  dispelled, 
but  another  delusion  rises  before  us.  Thus  we  are  beset 
with  hinderances.  When  we  have  learnt  that  the  Pur- 
poses of  the  Deity  do  not  infringe  upon  our  liberty,  and 
oblige  us  to  be  lost,  the  Nature  of  Eeligion  comes  up  to 
lend  to  our  mistake  a  lame  apology. 

Nor  can  we  be  surprised  at  these  frequent  difficul- 
ties, when  we  find  them  in  our  own  mind,  or  in  the 
minds  of  other  people.  "What  is  there  that  is  valuable, 
whose  acquisition  is  not  attended  with  some  trouble? 
The  riches  you  covet  cost  you  many  a  day  of  laborious 
diligence,  and  many  a  weary  pain.  The  learning  you 
value  has  been  acquired  only  by  laborious  study,  care- 
ful attention,  diligence,  and  self-denial.  There  is  scarcely 
any  thing  of  value,  whose  acquisition  is  perfectly  easy 
and  unattended  with  difficulty.  Difficulties  will  arise, 
either  from  the  nature  of  the  object  sought,  or  the  im- 
perfection of  the  creature  that  seeks. 

It  IS  in  the  latter  method  that  the  difficulties  of  our 
salvation  assail  us.  Our  obstacles  lie  in  our  own  nature — 
in  that  inherent  wickedness  which  we  love  to  foster, 
and  are  unwilling  to  eradicate. 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  807 

But,  if  we  are  inclined,  after  all,  to  murmur  tliat 
Religion — a  thing  so  indispensable — is  beset  with  so  many 
difficulties,  let  us  hush  the  murmur  with  two  reflec- 
tions— the  one  humbling  to  our  pride,  the  other  com- 
plimentary to  our  nature. 

The  first  one  is,  that  the  difficulties  which  beset  us  in 
our  attempts  after  religion  are  mostly,  if  not  altogether, 
placed  there  by  ourselves,  through  our  own  wickedness 
and  folly.  The  other  is,  that  that  very  characteristic  of 
our  nature  which  renders  us  capable  of  religion,  or  of 
sensibility  to  its  difficulties,  is  the  very  characteristic 
which  distinguishes  us  from  the  lower  order  of  creatures. 
Our  Creator,  in  forming  us  such  as  we  are,  has  given  us 
an  exaltation.  We  are  not  created  merely  capable  of 
enjoyment ;  we  are  created  for  attaining  it.  "We  are  not 
formed  to  be  the  mere  passive  recipients  of  good ;  but 
formed  with  a  far  more  exalted  nature ;  formed  with 
capabilities  for  seeking  and  attaining  good.  And  when 
we  complain  that  all  needful  religion  is  not  bestowed 
upon  us  as  a  free  gift,  without  any  efibrts  or  attention 
of  our  own,  we  are,  in  reality,  complaining  of  our  high 
station  in  the  scale  of  existence.  God  requires  of  us  a 
religion  suitable  to  our  nature  ;  and  by  it  he  would  lead 
us  to  excellences  of  duty  and  of  enjoyment,  of  which 
that  nature  is  capable.  Had  he  enjoined  upon  us  no 
such  religion,  we  should  not  have  in  prospect  any  higher 
kind  of  felicity  than  that  of  which  the  brute  is  suscepti- 
ble. And  if  we  still  complain  that  we  have  so  much  to 
do  in  the  religion  that  God  requires,  let  us  remember 
that  this  activity  is  absolutely  to  the  enjoyment  of  that 
felicity  which  religion  proposes.  We  are  moral  beings, 
and  religion  treats  us  as  such.  We  are  moral  beings, 
and  religion  rewards  us  as  such.      In   the  nature   of 


808  GOD  NO   PLEASURE   IN  THE 

things,  it  is  wliollj  impossible  (as  I  apprehend)  that  one 
should  be  the  mere  passive  recipient  of  the  enjoyment 
tliat  religion  proposes  to  man.  And  if  you  complain  of 
this  state  in  which  you  are  placed,  then  envy  the 
brute — covet  the  enjoyment  of  the  reptile  in  his  dust — 
take  from  the  beast  his  stall — and  envy  the  stupidity  of 
the  ox  or  the  oyster. 

Still,  men  are  accustomed  to  render  a  sort  of  apology 
for  continuing  in  their  unbelief,  by  alleging  the  difficul- 
ties of  religion.  And  we  are  not  surprised  to  find  it  so. 
It  is  the  very  nature  of  criminality  to  excuse  itself; 
and  you  know  the  religion  of  the  Bible  supposes  all 
men  to  be  criminal — guilty  before  God.  You  can  charge 
iniquity  upon  scarcely  any  being  deserving  the  charge, 
who  will  not  strive  to  invent  some  apology  for  it.  And 
though  the  apology  may  not  be  expected  fully  to  justify, 
3^et  it  is  relied  upon  at  least  partially  to  excuse.  There  is 
but  one  exception — that  is,  when  the  transgressor  is 
either  reclaimed,  or  so  powerfully  convinced  of  his  need 
of  reformation  that  he  fears  to  add  to  that  necessity  by 
denying  it.  Always,  when  the  evil  of  sin  is  7iot  deeply 
felt,  there  is  a  secret,  if  not  a  manifest  disposition  to  pal- 
liate it  and  apologize  for  it.  And  I  am  persuaded  that 
if  we  should  thoroughly  examine  our  own  hearts,  we 
should  find  this  disposition  often  influencing  us  when  we 
little  suspect  it.  We  are  not  to  be  surprised,  therefore, 
if  we  find  men  alleging  the  difficulties  of  the  religion 
that  God  enjoins  upon  us  as  a  kind  of  excuse  for  the 
neglect  of  it.  If  they  do  not  suppose  these  difficulties 
will  justify  them,  they  have  a  sort  of  secret  hope  that 
they  will  render  them  more  excusable,  and  relieve  them 
from  any  punishment.  Here,  then,  is  one  reason  why  such 
apologies  are  uttered — to  soothe  fear  by  pacifying  con- 


DEATH   OF  THE   WICKED.  309 

science.  There  always  is,  and  must  be,  a  kind  of  torment- 
ing fear  attending  known  and  acknowledged  sin.  And 
tke  sin  is  palliated  to  diminish  the  torment  of  the  fear. 

Another  reason  is  found  in  the  power  of  pride.  There 
is  something  humiliating  in  the  feeling  of  guilt.  Guilt 
is  degrading;  and  every  guilty  creature  feels  that  moral 
beings  look  upon  him  as  more  unworthy  and  mean  by 
reason  of  being  criminal.  He  can  not  bear  the  contempt 
(and  perhaps  can  not  bear  the  pity)  of  those  who  behold 
him.  Hence  the  unconscious  blush  of  even  the  uncon- 
trite  culprit  at  the  bar ;  and  hence  even  innocence,  sus- 
pected of  evil,  is  compelled  to  wear  the  burning  blush  of 
shame.  And,  therefore,  both  are  disposed  to  plead  some 
apology. 

Another  reason  is  found  in  the  disquietudes  of  con- 
scious sin.  Sin  is  a  great  tormentor  of  our  peace.  When 
we  feel  ourselves  guilty,  it  is  not  in  our  nature  to  be  un- 
disturbed by  it.  The  Author  of  our  existence  has 
stamped  upon  our  soul  itself  this  testimony  to  his  own 
holiness,  and  his  abhorrence  of  sin.  We  may  turn  away 
from  it — we  may  forget  it — we  may  obscure  it  and 
cover  it  over ;  still  it  is  tliere^  living  in  the  hand-writing 
of  the  Creator  and  can  not  be  blotted  out.  Conscience  is 
as  immortal  as  the  soul.  And  though  for  a  time  she 
may  sleep,  yet  she  never  dies ;  and  when  in  the  light  of 
eternity  she  shall  unroll  her  scroll,  the  record  of  even  her 
slumbering  moments  will  be  found  to  wear  a  most  fear- 
ful accuracy.  But,  to  avoid  the  torment  of  her  present 
reproaches,  men  are  accustomed  to  make  some  apology 
for  their  present  wickedness.  This  apology  may  com- 
fort for  a  moment,  and  we  render  it  instinctively.  But 
when  it  is  torn  away  from  the  heart,  our  unhappiness 
returns.     And  I  suppose  in  this  consists  much  of  the 


310  GOD   NO   PLEASURE   IN   THE 

supreme  infelicity  of  devils  and  lost  spirits.  They  are 
unable  to  quiet  conscience  with  an  excuse.  Their  guilt, 
in  burning  lines,  is  drawn  upon  the  spirit!  Nothing  can 
hide  it  from  their  view.  No  sophistry  can  conceal  it,  and 
no  apology  excuse !  How  much,  better  to  feel  it  now, 
than  vainly  lament  it  then. 

These  are  some  of  the  reasons  whicli  lead  men  to 
excuse  themselves.  And  when,  by  false  reasonings,  they 
can  not  force  the  Purposes  of  God  to  plead  for  them,  they 
bring  in  the  Nature  of  Eeligion  to  perform  this  ofi&ce, 
and  pretend  that  the  religion  whicli  the  Bible  imposes 
is  so  dif&cult  that  tbey  can  not  attain  it  and  be  saved. 
They  will  not,  perhaps,  boldly  contradict  this  text,  but 
they  will  speak  in  such  a  manner  of  the  religion  of  the 
Bible,  of  tbe  obscurity  of  its  instructions,  of  the  multi- 
tude of  its  mysteries,  tbe  absurdity  of  its  doctrines,  the 
difficulty  of  its  duties,  the  rigidity  of  its  morals,  that  they 
almost  persuade  themselves  to  believe  that,  althougli  the 
decree  of  the  Deity  may  not  have  bound  them  over  to 
destruction,  his  religion  has. 

But  now,  in  the  face  of  all  these  prejudices,  let  us 
vindicate  the  religion  of  the  Gospel.  Let  us  show  that 
it  contains  nothing  to  contradict  our  text,  and  by  its 
difficulty  to  prove  that  men  do  not  destroy  themselves. 

We  are  far  from  saying  there  is  no  difficulty  in  relig- 
ion. We  only  contend  there  is  nothing  insuperable.  Some 
have  sadly  erred  on  this  point,  when  they  have  tried  to 
vindicate  religion  from  the  aspersions  of  unbelief.  They 
have  made  it  more  easy  than  the  Gospel  makes  it ;  and 
while  they  supposed  they  were  smoothing  the  path  to 
heaven,  were  really  widening  the  road  to  hell!  There 
are  difficulties  in  religion.  We  would  have  you  all  be- 
lieve  it.     We  would  not  persuade  you  it  is  so  easy  a 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  811 

matter,  that  a  few  moments'  attention  will  be  abundantly 
sufficient.  We  dare  not  tell  you  that  you  need  devote 
to  this  subject  only  the  last  energies  of  an  exhausted 
body,  and  the  last  sighs  of  an  expiring  life.  But  there 
are  no  difficulties  which  are  insurmountable.  There  are 
no  obstacles  which  may  not  be  overcome.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  nature  of  religion  to  justify  your  gloomy 
opinion  that  you  can  not  be  saved — that,  somehow,  relig* 
ion  lies  beyond  your  reach. 

What  is  there,  then,  in  the  religion  which  God  pro- 
poses— (not  in  his  anger  to  bind  you  over  to  hell,  but  in 
his  compassion  to  guide  you  to  heaven) — what  is  there 
in  it,  that  makes  it  an  impossible  thing  that  you  should 
attain  it  and  be  saved  ? 

Take  any  item  you  will. 

I.  Do  you  allege  its  mysteries  ?  Do  you  say  it  con- 
tains and  claims  to  contain  many  things  mysterious,  of 
which  you  know  not  what  to  think  ?  Then  let  us  ex- 
amine this. 

Its  mysteries  perplex  you.  But  what  have  you  to  do 
with  its  mysteries?  Are  you  required  to  understand 
them  ?  No,  not  at  all — you  have  simply  to  believe 
them ;  that  is,  to  believe  what  is  recorded  concerning 
them.  Are  you  required  to  regulate  your  practices  by 
them  ?  ISTot  an  item,  not  a  single  item,  any  further  than 
they  are  plainly  revealed,  and  have  thereby  lost  (so  far) 
the  character  of  mysteries. 

But  3^ou  say  you  would  have  no  mysteries  in  religion — ■ 
you  would  have  every  thing  plainly  revealed — and  you 
are  doubtful  of  a  religion  which  contains  any  thing  high 
and  mysterious.  Before  replying  to  this  objection,  I 
will  only  say  it  deserves  no  reply.     It  contains  the  im* 


312  GOD  NO  PLEASURE   IN  THE 

piety  of  pointing  out  to  God  what  kind  of  a  religion  lie 
ought  to  have  given  to  man  !  This  is  impudent  daring  I 
But  we  are  vindicating  religion,  and  will  therefore 
answer, 

1.  If  a  religion  required  of  me  to  practice  upon  its 
mysteries,  the  meaning  of  which  I  did  not  understand  so 
far  as  my  practice  must  extend,  I  should  be  doubtful  of 
its  truth.  My  mind  is  so  constituted,  that  I  always  re- 
quire to  understand  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  conduct 
which  I  am  commanded  to  pursue.  And  I  could  receive 
no  religion  as  coming  from  my  Creator  which  did  not 
agree  with  this  original  principle  which  my  Creator  has 
implanted  in  the  soul.  The  reasons  for  that  conduct  I 
can  dispense  with.  If  God  speaks,  I  confess  I  ought  to 
obey,  whether  he  tells  me  reasons  or  not.  The  highest 
of  all  possible  reasons  for  believing  any  thing  or  doing 
any  thing,  is  simply  this — ^God  has  said  so. 

2.  I  confess  the  mysteries  of  a  religion  would  render 
me  doubtful  of  its  truth,  if  they  were  contradictory  to 
reason.  I  never  could  believe  that  true  which  contra- 
dicted the  reason  which  God  has  given  to  me.  I  avow 
my  readiness  to  receive  a  religion  which  contains  many 
things  wholly  superior  to  the  highest  efforts  of  unaided 
reason — wholly  above  it,  beyond — ^but  I  can  receive 
nothing  which  I  know  to  contradict  it,  and  hence,  no- 
thing which  contradicts  my  senses.  I  require  my  religion 
to  agree  so  far  with  my  nature  as  not  to  show  that  it 
can  not  proceed  from  Him  who  is  the  Author  of  my  na- 
ture. And  if  it  contained  that  which  I  could  prove  to 
be  contrary  to  reason,  I  could  not  but  reject  it.  At  the 
same  time  my  religion  might  contain  many  things  so 
mysterious,  that  I  could  not  prove  them  agreeable  to 
reason,  though  nothing  which  I  could  prove  contrary  to  it. 


DEATH   OF   THE    W  ICKED.  813 

3.  I  confess  that  mysteries  would  render  me  doubtful 
of  a  religion,  if  its  mysteries  were  favorable  to  immorali- 
ity  and  vice.  Nothing  could  convince  me  that  the 
Author  of  my  existence  looked  with  approbation  upon 
vice,  especially  when  I  behold  his  standing  testimony 
against  it,  written  out  in  that  wretchedness  to  which  I 
see  it  leads.  Yice  is  ruinous  and  degrading.  The  attri- 
butes with  which  my  mind  is  compelled  to  clothe  the 
Deity,  oblige  me  to  believe  that  he  would  enjoin  no  re- 
ligion productive  necessarily  of  such  effects  :  on  the  con- 
trary, that  a  religion  coming  from  him  would  have  a 
tendency  to  reform  and  exalt.  If,  therefore,  the  mys- 
teries of  a  religion  were  favorable  to  immorality,  I  could 
not  receive  it. 

Here,  then,  are  three  classes  of  mysteries,  any  one  of 
which  (to  say  the  least)  would  render  me  doubtful  of  the 
truth  of  a  religion,  and  constitute  an  insurmountable 
difficulty  to  my  receiving  it.  In  compliment  to  skepti- 
cism and  infidelity  we  will  add  a 

4th.  I  confess,  then,  I  should  doubt  the  divinity  of 
that  religion  which  contained  such  mysteries  that  I  could 
reject  the  religion  and  not  involve  myself  in  still  greater 
difficulties.  Prove  to  me  that  the  difficulties  of  infi- 
delity are  not  still  greater  than  the  difficulties  of  Chris- 
tianit}^,  with  all  its  mysteries,  and  I  promise  to  you  never 
will  I  attempt  again  to  persuade  you  to  be  Christians. 
For,  by  the  constitution  of  my  mind,  I  must  believe  that 
the  Deity  could  never  propose  to  man  a  religion,  the  re- 
ception of  which  would  involve  him  in  greater  difficul- 
ties and  uncertainties  than  the  rejection  of  it ;  and  if 
the  religion  is  not  from  God,  of  course  I  could  not  re- 
ceive it. 

In  all  these  four  cases  of  mystery,  I  confess  I  should 

14 


314  GOD  IS'O   PLEASURE   IN   THE 

not  be  able  to  become  a  believer.     But  there  is  nothing 
like  any  one  of  these  cases  in  the  religion  of  the  Bible. 

Still,  you  would  have  a  rehgion  that  contained  no 
mystery.  Let  me  tell  you,  then,  it  would  be  a  religion 
which  you  could  never  receive.  Could  you  receive  a  re- 
ligion as  coming  from  God,  which  was  manifestly  dis- 
cordant with  the  works  of  Creation  and  Providence  ? 
Must  you  not  have  the  God  of  your  religion  and  the 
God  of  Creation  correspond?  You  allow  it,  and  so  will 
every  man  of  any  respectable  intelligence  and  candor. 
But  the  works  of  Creation  and  Providence  embody 
many  mysterious  things.  Every  where  we  are  meeting 
with  things  we  can  not  unfold — depths  we  can  not  fathom. 
Tell  me  why  is  that  young  man  cut  down  in  the  vigor 
of  life,  while  the  aged  is  spared  ?  Why  is  the  house  of 
the  widow  burnt  up,  while  that  of  the  strong  man  (able 
to  erect  another)  stands  safe  by  the  side  of  it  ?  Not  to 
trouble  you  with  examples,  let  me  say  to  you,  that  if 
your  religion  contained  nothing  mysterious,  3^ou  would 
reject  it :  you  vv^ould  say  it  did  not  agree  with  the  aspect 
of  Providence  and  Creation.  You  would  say,  that  when 
God  speaks  to  you  in  creation,  his  language  brings  up 
that  which  is  mysterious :  looking  at  your  own  frame 
you  would  exclaim,  I  am  fearfully  and  luonderfully  made. 
You  would  say  that  when  God  s|)eaks  to  you  in  Provi- 
dence, his  language  brings  up  that  which  is  mj^sterious  : 
looking  at  the  bereaved,  (for  example.)  you  would  ex- 
claim, why  should  the  mother  weep  for  her  darling 
daughter,  and  the  father  live  to  build  the  sepulcher  of 
his  sons  ?  You  would  demand,  therefore,  that  when  God 
speaks  to  you  in  religiou,  his  language  shall  sometimes 
bring  up  that  which  is  mysterious — that  it  must  sound  like 
the  same  voice  which  speaks  to  you  in  nature,  and  have 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  315 

at  least  a  general  correspondence  witli  the  language  of 
Creation  and  Providence.  And  if  it  did  not  so  corre- 
spond you  would  be  obliged  to  reject  it ;  you  could  not 
worship  one  God  in  nature  and  another  in  religion. 
For  immortality,  for  the  great  and  amazing  matters  of 
an  eternity  to  come,  for  the  unseen  spirit  that  taber- 
nacles within  you,  soon  to  be  out  on  the  fields  of  a  spirit's 
existence,  you  can  not  only  afford  to  have  God  more  high 
and  mysterious,  but  your  mind  demands  to  have  him 
more  mysterious  and  high  above  you,  than  he  is  on 
these  fields  of  matter,  and  for  the  little  lapse  of  your 
three-score  years  and  ten.  Religion  is  a  deeper  system  than 
nature,  reaches  further,  lasts  longer.  You  7ieed  to  have 
him  here  more  grand,  mysterious  and  amazing. 

True  reason,  therefore,  instead  of  being  staggered  at  a 
religion  containing  mysterious  things,  is  compelled  to 
reject  a  religion  which  contains  none. 

And,  after  all,  what  are  these  mysteries?  They  are 
not  things  needful  for  us  to  understand — desirable  to  be 
known — perhaps  not  things  which,  from  our  limited 
minds,  we  could  understand  if  they  were  unfolded  before 
us.     Who  can  understand  God  to  perfection  ? 

There  is  nothing,  then,  in  the  darknesses  of  our  relig- 
ion, which  ought  to  trouble  you ;  nothing  that  excuses 
you  from  embracing  it ;  or  proves  by  its  difl&culties  that 
God  has  any  pleasure  in  your  death. 

II.  You  are  troubled  with  the  obscurity  of  its  doc- 
trines. You  can  not  embrace  them.  There  are  some 
things  hard  to  he  understood^  which  you  are  required  to 
believe ;  and  some  things,  you  say,  apparently  inconsist- 
ent with  one  another;  and  this  renders  Christianity  so 
perplexing  to  you,  that  to  require  you  to  accept  it,  you 


816  GOD  KO   PLEASURE   IN  THE 

think  is  little  less  than  to  delight  in  your  ruin.     Let  me 
answer  this. 

I  grant  that  the  Bible  contains  some  things  hard  to  be  un- 
derstood^ ivhich  they  that  are  unlearned  and  unstable  do  wrest, 
as  they  do  also  the  other  Scriptures^  unto  their  own  destruction. 
But  every  thing  necessary  for  us  to  know  is  fully  reveal- 
ed, as  far  as  it  is  necessary  that  we  should  know  it. 
There  is  an  extent,  indeed,  to  most,  if  not  to  all  the  doc- 
trines of  Christianity,  which  we  are  unable  to  measure ; 
for  there  are  connections,  and  combinations,  and  applica- 
tions too  numerous  for  our  limited  powers  of  mind.  But 
the  fact  which  we  are  to  receive  is  fully  set  before  us;  the 
doctrine  itself  is  clearly  taught ;  and  we  are,  therefore, 
acquainted  with  it  as  far  as  necessary  for  us. 

The  object  of  the  instructions  of  our  Bible  is  our  sanc- 
tification  ;  and  in  giving  us  instruction,  God  has  pursued 
that  mode  best  adapted  to  promote  our  sanctification. 
It  might  gratify  our  curiosity,  and  perhaps  our  pride,  to 
have  the  deep  things  of  God  more  fully  unfolded  to  us. 
But  it  would  not  advance  our  holiness.  Indeed,  we 
should  find  ourselves  injured  by  having  these  deep  things 
presented  as  objects  of  study  and  necessary  knowledge. 
Suppose  the  Word  of  God  contained  a  full  illustration  of 
all  those  abstruse  points  which  so  often  trouble  you  ; 
suppose  it  revealed  to  you  the  reason  of  every  act  of 
God — unfolded  to  you  the  whole  counsels  of  the  God- 
head respecting  our  world — gave  you  the  rule  by  which 
you  could  trace  out  every  thing  mysterious — and  left  out 
nothing  for  you  to  ask  ;  what  an  immense  volume  your 
Bible  would  become !  You  could  not  lift  it !  Your  life 
would  be  too  short  to  read  it !  much  less  would  your  life 
suffice  to  understand  it !  Even  now,  though  our  Eevela- 
tion  records  nothing  useless,  how  extremely  imperfect  is 


DEATH  OF  THE   WICKED.  817 

that  understanding  of  it  wliich  the  best  of  us  ever  attain  I 
Were  we  to  enter  upon  the  study  of  those  deep  things 
of  God  which  he  has  mercifully  concealed  from  us,  and 
were  it  needful  for  us  to  comprehend  them  in  order  to 
be  saved,  we  should  at  once  sit  down  in  despair  !  How 
much  time,  and  attention,  and  careful  study  it  requires 
for  us  to  attain  any  considerable  knowledge  of  an  earthly 
science  ;  even  with  all  the  assistance  which  the  best  books 
and  the  best  teachers  can  give  us !  We  are  forced  to 
labor  year  after  year,  and  yet  how  small  is  the  portion 
of  knowledge  that  we  attain.  And  where  is  the  perfect 
master  of  even  the  simplest  science  ?  Where  is  the  pro- 
fessor who  will  pledge  himself  to  solve  any  problem  in 
his  favorite  department  that  I  will  propose  to  him? 
pledge  himself  to  clear  up  any  obscurity  that  I  will 
name,  and  satisfy  the  longings  of  my  utmost  curiosity  ? 
Should  any  one  avow  himself  adequate  to  such  a  task, 
you  would  smile  at  his  conceit,  and  say  that  his  pre- 
sumption was  equaled  by  nothing  but  the  stupidity 
which  allowed  it.  It  takes  much  time  and  study  to  un- 
derstand things  intricate  and  perplexed.  And  if  we  are 
unable,  in  the  few  days  we  have  to  spend,  to  attain  a  per- 
fect knowledge  of  earthly  science ;  how  should  we  be 
able,  in  the  few  years  we  stay  on  earth,  to  attain  a  per- 
fect knowledge  of  those  eternal  truths  which  God  has 
wisely  and  mercifully  concealed  from  us  ?  This,  proba- 
bly, will  be  a  work  for  eternity.  Here  it  may  be  com- 
menced. God  has  furnished  us  the  means  for  knowing 
all  we  need  to  know  here,  in  order  to  secure  our  salva- 
tion. The  rest  he  has  wisely  concealed.  Had  he  called 
us  to  plunge  into  the  deep  things  of  God — to  study  the 
infinite  combinations  and  dependencies  of  things,  and  lose 
ourselves  in  intricacies  which  it  may  take  us  age  after 


818  GOD  NO  PLEASUEE  IN  THE 

age  of  our  eternity  to  compreliend,  what  time  should  we 
have  left  for  the  common  duties  of  life  ?  what  moment 
could  we  spare  for  the  duties  of  charity  to  the  poor,  for 
the  consolations  we  owe  to  the  sick,  and  for  the  relief 
our  religion  sends  us  to  carry  to  the  distressed  ?  Indeed, 
what  hour  could  we  devote  to  our  own  hearts,  to  study 
their  dispositions  and  eradicate  their  evil  propensities  ? 

It  is  of  God's  goodness  that  he  has  called  us  to  study 
only  those  things  which  tend  to  promote  our  holiness 
and  comfort,  and  thus  prepare  us  to  study  more  deeply 
the  world  to  come.  If  he  has  taught  us  any  doctrine,  he 
has  told  us  all  in  relation  to  it  that  would  he  of  any 
avail  for  us  to  know.  The  fact  we  are  taught.  The 
manner  of  the  fact  would  do  us  no  good.  Hence,  God 
has  concealed  it.  Every  thing  necessary  to  our  present 
duty  is  placed  before  us.  More  might  flatter  our  pride, 
but  could  not  promote  our  piety. 

There  is  nothing,  therefore,  in  the  obscurity  of  our  doc- 
trines which  conflicts  with  our  text.  Our  Kevelation 
on  the  darkest  side  wears  the  light  of  that  glorious  truth, 
that  the  Lord  God  has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the 
ivicked. 

III.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  that  Christla.n  morality  is 
extremely  plain.  All  those  things  which  concern  our 
present  and  immediate  conduct  are  not  difficult  to  bo 
understood.  It  is  only  those  things,  the  knowledge  of 
which  could  do  us  no  good,  and  the  study  of  which  (as 
it  would  draw  us  off  from  more  important  matters) 
would  probably  do  us  much  hurt — it  is  only  such  things 
that  are  concealed  from  us.  What  we  ought  now  to  do, 
and  how  we  ought  now  to  feel  toward  God  and  toward 
man,  are  things  too  plain  to  be  misunderstood.     And  if 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  819 

we  still  complain  that  our  Revelation  does  not  lead  its 
further,  let  us  liush  tlie  complaint  with  one  reflection. 
It  is  this :  that  the  religion  of  the  Gospel  is  so  practical 
and  progressive,  that  the  further  we  advance  in  it,  the 
more  perfect  will  the  guidance  of  our  revelation  appear. 
The  Bible  will  scatter  the  doubts  of  that  man  who  will 
reduce  the  Bible  to  practice.  It  will  unfold  itself  more 
and  more  to  him.  If  he  will  not  be  2^  forgetful  hearer^  hut  a 
doer  of  the  word^  he  will  find  it  will  lead  him  much  further 
than  at  first  he  anticipated.  The  novice  in  Christianity 
may  not  be  able  to  decide  in  advance  those  questions 
which  concern  one  only  who  has  been  going  on  year 
after  year  in  the  growth  oi  grace  andhioidedge  of  his  Lord 
and  Saviour.  But  let  the  novice  in  Christianity  pass 
beyond  his  novitiate:  following  the  light  he  now  has, 
and  performing  the  duties  which  now  concern  him,  let 
him  grow  up  to  such  an  age  and  such  a  stature  that 
those  questions  shall  concern  himself  and  he  will  find 
little  difficulty  in  deciding  them ;  he  will  find  the  Bible 
a  more  perfect  guide  than  he  supposed.  The  cloud  so 
dark  at  a  distance  will  brighten  as  he  approaches  it.  The 
light  that  tinged  its  edge  will  grow  broader  and  bolder, 
till,  all  luminous  with  Deity,  it  pours  a  flood  of  light  upon 
the  path  once  so  dimly  seen. 

Let  no  man,  then,  complain  of  the  obscurity  of  our 
doctrines.  Let  him  put  duty  before  curiosity  or  cap- 
tiousness,  and  reduce  the  doctrines  to  practice  so  far  as 
they  now  concern  him  ;  and,  as  he  advances  in  religion, 
their  obscurity  will  be  done  away  as  fast  as  his  necessi- 
ties require  it — and  his  pathway,  like  that  of  the  just, 
will  shine  brighter  and  hrighier  unto  die  perfect  day. 

The  manner,  therefore,  in  which  all  Christian  morality 


320  GOD   NO   PLEASURE    IN   THE 

is  taught,  bears  its  full  testimony  that  God  has  no  pleasure 
in  the  death  of  the  ivicJced. 

TV.  There  is  self-denial  in  religion.  Men  often  think 
it  too  severe.  An  idea  of  blended  folly  and  sin  floats 
around  their  mind,  that  if  God  had  been  sincerely  desir- 
ous of  their  salvation,  he  would  have  made  the  way  into 
heaven  more  easy,  and  sinners  might  have  walked  in  it 
without  finding  it  to  cross  their  inclinations  at  every  step. 
But  whence  does  the  necessity  of  this  self-denial  arise  ? 
It  arises  wholly  and  in  every  part  of  it  from  sin.  It 
is  benevolence,  therefore,  which  imposes  it.  I  grant  it 
is  severe,  (if  you  choose  to  employ  such  a  word  to  describe 
it.)  It  is  the  plucking  out  of  a  right  ez/e,  and  cutting  off 
of  a  right  hand.  But  for  what  purpose  ?  To  preserve 
the  ivhole  man  from  hell.  The  necessity  of  it  arises  from 
corruption  alone.  We  are  required  to  deny  ourselves  in 
that  which  is  sinful,  and  God  requires  this  self-denial  in 
love.  He  would  lead  us  from  sin,  and  thereby  lead  us 
from  misery.  Sin  is  the  great  destroyer  of  happiness, 
and  God  would  have  us  forsake  it.  He  would  not  have 
us  forfeit  heaven  for  the  pleasures  of  sin  for  a  season.  He 
does  not  require  us  absolutely  to  hate  ourselves,  but,  in 
reality,  directly  the  contrary.  He  would  have  us  love 
ourselves,  and  by  a  wise  mortification,  for  a  little  time, 
of  those  appetites  which  plunge  us  into  misery,  he  would 
have  us  secure  to  ow^qqIyq^  pleasures  for  evermore. 

This  is  the  reason  for  the  self-denial  of  religion.  And 
what  less  would  you  have  ?  Would  you  have  a  religion 
proposed  to  you  which  should  leave  you  at  liberty  to 
sin  ?  a  religion  which  should  impose  no  restraint  ?  a  re- 
ligion which  should  plunge  you  into  immorality  and 
vice  ?  a  religion  which  would  multiply  your  crimes  thick 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  821 

upon  you,  and  promise  to  take  you  to  heaven  at  last  ? 
You  would  reject  such  a  religion.  You  would  say  it 
was  an  absurdity — an  impossibility.  You  would  declare 
that  a  religion  which  left  you  to  delight  in  sin  here 
could  not  prepare  you  to  delight  in  holiness  hereafter ; 
you  would  affirm  that  such  a  religion  could  not  make 
you  relish  heaven,  and  it  would  be  no  heaven  to  you. 
You  would  say  it  was  unworthy  of  God  and  unworthy 
of  yourself.  You  would  say  it  was  contrary  to  the  con- 
stitution of  things,  for  you  could  every  where  behold  the 
proof,  that  the  tendency  of  sin  is  to  lead  to  misery.  And 
much  sooner  would  you  accept  the  self-denial  of  the 
Gospel,  and  by  a  few  acts  of  transient  mortification  pre- 
pare yourself  for  a  superior  felicity. 

V.  But  perhaps  you  are  troubled  with  the  humility  of 
our  religion.  But  why  should  this  trouble  you  ?  Does 
the  requiring  of  this  prove  to  you  that  the  Deity  would 
confine  you  in  sin,  taking  pleasure  in  your  destruction  ? 
Then,  what  is  humility?  Is  it  a  thing  degrading  to 
your  nature  ?  Is  it  shocking,  revolting  to  reason  ?  Is 
it  any  thing  more  than  justice  ?  Not  at  all.  It  only 
demands  of  us  to  be  just  and  reasonable ;  to  estimate 
ourselves  according  to  truth — not  to  think  of  ourselves 
more  highly  than  we  ought  to  think.  More  than  this.  The 
very  aim  of  this  humility  is  to  exalt  us.  It  would  have 
us  put  together  the  knowledge  of  what  we  are  and  the 
knowledge  of  what  we  are  capable  of  being,  and,  by  the 
comparison  of  the  two,  teach  us  to  think  meanly  of  what 
we  are,  and  learn  to  aim  at  being  more  exalted,  more  use- 
ful, and  more  happy.  God  would  have  us  humble,  because 
he  would  have  us  just,  and  wise,  and  happy.  Pride  is 
not  just.     Pride  is  not  wise.     Pride  is  not  happy.     It  is 


822  GOD  NO   PLEASUKE  IN  THE 

not  just,  because  it  leads  us  to  exalt  our  present  worth 
beyond  its  value.  It  is  not  wise,  because  it  leads  us  to 
rest  in  what  we  are,  instead  of  aiming  at  something 
better.  It  is  not  happy,  because  it  feels  its  claims  dis- 
puted, or  fears  they  will  be ;  and  because  its  aims  are  so 
often  defeated.  And  God,  in  requiring  us  to  be  humble, 
only  requires  us  to  be  just  and  reasonable,  and  aim  at 
the  highest  good.  There  is  nothing,  then,  in  this  feature 
of  our  religion  which  goes  to  show  that  God  would  not 
have  us  accept  it  and  be  saved.     But, 

YI.  Repentance.  Men  must  repent ;  and  this  troubles 
you.  You  ask,  if  God  had  not  been  willing  that  I 
should  ^em/i,  would  he  not  have  dispensed  with  such 
difi&cult  thing  as  my  repentance  ?  What,  then,  is  repen- 
tance. It  is  sorrow  for  sin — hatred,  abhorrence  of  it,  and 
forsaking  of  it.  Yery  well :  if  you  have  sinned,  erred, 
done  wrong,  should  you  not  be  sorry  for  it  ?  If  your  sin 
has  already  destroyed  much  of  your  felicity,  and  threat- 
ens to  destroy  it  all,  ought  you  not  to  abhor  it?  If,  by 
transgression,  you  have  offended  the  best  and  wisest  of 
Beings,  ought  you  not  to  confess  it,  and  forsake  it? 
What  less  could  justice,  propriety,  truth,  order,  demand  ? 
What  less  would  you  yourself  be  satisfied  to  render?  A 
religion  that  did  not  require  repentance,  you  would  not 
hesitate  to  reject.  You  would  say  it  was  not  consistent 
with  justice,  propriety,  truth.     But, 

YII.  You  are  troubled  because  God  requires  you  to 
trust  in  his  mercy — to  believe  in  Jesus  Christ.  But  if 
you  can  not  trust  in  Jesus  Christ  for  salvation,  where  can 
you  trust?  Can  you  rely  on  your  own  righteousness? 
Can  you  lift  up  your  voice  to  heaven,  and  say,  I  am 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  323 

pure^  oli^  Lord  tlwu  knowest  ?  You  shudder  at  the  idea. 
What,  then,  can  you  trust  ?  Would  you  have  religion 
propose  to  you  a  more  precious  and  exalted  Saviour  ? 
You  dare  not  pretend  it.  And  does  the  free  gift  of  such 
a  Saviour — the  free  offer  of  pardon  and  eternal  life, 
peace  and  heaven,  through  his  blood,  prove  to  you  that 
God  has  pleasure  in  your  death  ?     And, 

YIII.  Finally.  Do  not  the  motives  of  religion  compel 
you  to  believe  that  God  has  no  pleasure  in  your  death? 
What  can  you  soberly  and  really  desire,  that  religion 
does  not  offer  to  you  ?  Do  you  pant  for  exaltation  ? 
Eeligion  offers  it  to  you  :  not  the  exaltation  of  a  moment 
of  life,  but  that  of  eternal  ages.  Do  you  love  pleasure  ? 
Eeligion  proposes  it  to  you :  not  that  which  you  drink 
from  a  poisoned  bowl,  and  imagine  felicity  in  the  deadly 
delirium  which  drinks  up  3- our  spirit,  but  that  which  is 
worthy  of  a  human  soul — that  which  is  gathered  from 
converse  with  the  Deity — -joy  unspeahable  and  full  of  glory. 
Do  you  pant  for  riches  ?  Eeligion  proposes  to  you  the 
acquisition  of  such  riches  as  no  earthly  charter  can  se- 
cure— durable  riches^  laid  up  in  heaven,  safe  from  the 
vicissitudes  of  time,  and  secured  by  the  promise  and  the 
pledge  of  Jehovah. 

Such  are  some  of  the  articles  of  that  religion  which 
the  Lord  proposes  to  you.  We  have  spoken  only  of 
those  from  which  the  unbelieving  are  apt  to  recoil ;  we 
have  taken  only  those  items  which  they  imagine  unin- 
viting. And  now  let  me  ask,  is  there  any  thing  in  all 
this  which  makes  you  look  upon  the  religion  required 
of  you  as  a  thing  so  dififi.cult  that  you  can  not  be  snved — 
bo  difi&cult  as  to  contain  any  indication  thnt  Go'l.  while 


324  GOD  NO  PLEAS miE  IN  THE  DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED 

lie  enjoins  sucli  a  religion,  is  not  sincerely  willing  tliat 
yon  should  be  saved?  Indeed,  I  put  it  to  yonr  own 
reason  and  conscience,  what  less  could  God  have  re- 
quired, and  what  less  would  you  be  willing  to  receive  ? 
I  do  not  believe  there  is  one  ingenuous  mind  in  this  as- 
sembly that  does  not  confess  that  nothing  but  wickedness  4l 
can  reject  such  a  religion. 

The  most  difficult  features  of  our  religion,  and  those 
of  which  we  are  most  apt  to  complain,  prove  to  us,  most 
conclusively,  that  God  has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the 
toicked.  And  if  we  are  lost,  we  are  not  lost  because  the 
conditions  of  our  deliverance  are  hard.  The  mysteries, 
the  doctrines,  the  morality,  the  mortification,  the  hu- 
mility, the  repentance,  the  faith,  the  motives  of  Chris- 
tianity, will  all  bear  the  examination  of  the  most 
difficult  mind.  There  is  not  one  appearance  of  severity 
or  rigor  in  all  the  religion  of  the  Bible,  which  is  not 
absolutely  indispensable  in  the  nature  of  the  case,  and 
which  is  not  proposed  in  love,  and  to  exalt  our  felicity. 
In  conclusion,  then,  I  have  but  this  one  question  to  pro- 
pose to  you :  What  degree  of  misery  will  he  deserve 
who  will  reject  such  a  religion,  in  order  to  lose  his  own 
soul? 


<Jloir  110  f  kaolin  ill  t|e  ieat|  of  t^e  MklxtH. 

(shown  from  the  condition  of  man.) 


As  I  live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death 
of  the  wicked. — Ezekiel,  xxxiii.  11. 


TT  is  the  first  perfect  achievement  that  truth  makes  over 
-^  the  heart  of  the  sinner,  when  it  brings  him  to  confess 
his  guilt,  his  obstinacy,  and  his  wretchedness,  and  cast 
himself  upon  the  unmerited  aids  of  Divine  grace.  This 
is  the  triumph  of  the  truth — the  victory  over  obstinacy 
hitherto  unrelenting,  and  depravity  hitherto  unsubdued. 
Till  this  period,  corruption  reigns ;  her  dominion  is  not 
broken  down,  and  even  is  but  partially  restrained.  After 
this,  grace  reigns;  her  dominion  is  established  in  the 
soul;  and  though  much  of  corruption,  and  obstinacy, 
and  sin  is  still  lingering  there,  the  dominion  does  not  be- 
long to  them.  They  are  vanquished  foes,  having  already 
experienced  that  defeat  which  is  the  certain  prelude  of 
their  final  extinction.  Before  this  period,  the  heart 
itself,  with  its  firmest  feelings,  is  the  standing  opponent 
of  the  truth.  After  this,  the  heart  is  enlisted  on  the  side 
of  the  truth,  and  its  better  feelings  all  unite  to  destroy 
the  last  vestiges  of  sin. 

But  there  are  usually  many  refuges  of  lies  to  be  swept 
away  before  the  heart  of  a  sinful  man  is  open  for  the  re- 


326  GOD  NO   PLEASURE  IN  THE 

ception  of  the  truth.  There  may  be,  indeed,  not  a  little 
candor  (I  wish  there  were  more)  among  those  who  have 
no  true  faith ;  many  of  them,  perhaps^  sincerely  intend 
to  be  ingenuous.  But  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things 
and  desperately  wicked^  and  such  persons  are  often  ignorant 
of  their  own  purposes.  With  an  intent  to  be  honest, 
their  hearts  deceive  them;  and  they  have  some  long- 
cherished  excuse  for  not  being  Christians  indeed — some 
long-harbored  apology  which  influences  their  practice, 
intrenched  strongly  in  the  heart,  though  perhaps  never 
suffered  to  become  vocal  on  their  lips — concealing  itself 
so  closely  in  the  darkness  of  its  retreat,  that  it  remains 
unknown  and  unsuspected.  And  hence  we  find  those 
who  have  opened  their  hearts  to  the  truth,  wondering  at 
themselves — astonished  that  they  have  been  so  long 
ignorant  of  what  they  were,  of  what  errors  they  were  in, 
of  vv^hat  inclinations  controlled  them.  They  marvel  at 
their  blindness,  their  folly,  their  weakness,  their  con- 
trolling corruption,  hidden  year  after  year  from  their 
own  knowledge.  Once  I  luas  blind,  now  I  see^  is  the 
graphic  description  of  their  experience. 

We  are  not  to  be  astonished,  therefore,  if  many  of 
those  whose  understandings  have  received  no  spiritual 
light  should  not  believe  their  spiritual  or  mental  condi- 
tion to  be  as  the  Scriptures  afl&rm.  It  is  not  strange  if 
they  feel  themselves  abused  when  Divine  truth  carries 
its  torch  into  their  hearts  to  show  them  to  themselves,  to 
their  amazement  and  shame.  And  hence,  too,  as  truth 
troubles  them,  when  they  feel  the  dividing  kindness  of 
the  two-edged  sword,  it  is  nothing  wonderful  if  they  flee 
from  its  flash,  and  seek  quietude  and  ease  where  weapons 
are  employed  less  perilous  to  their  peace  and  pride. 
This  is  common.     Many  a  sinner  has  fled  from  the  truth, 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  327 

and,  so  doing,  lias  ruined  his  own  soul.  To  hear  smooth 
things — to  be  complimented  and  caressed — to  have  his 
pride  flattered — to  have  his  wickedness  unrebuked,  his 
corruptions  unassailed,  his  carnal  pleasures  undiminished, 
is  the  great  desire  of  an  unrenewed  sinner ;  and  he 
wishes  to  be  away  w^here  truth  will  not  trouble  him,  and 
so  he  will  put  on  the  form  of  godliness,  or  run  into  any 
error  or  any  infidelity. 

But  we  are  not  to  flatter  his  pride  or  favor  his  preju- 
dices to  the  ruin  of  his  soul.  His  errors  must  be  ex- 
posed— his  refuges  of  lies  destroyed — his  deceptions  dis- 
sipated, or  he  will  never  be  led  to  the  knowledge  of 
himself  and  the  knowledge  of  Christ. 

God  would  convince  every  sinner  that  he  may  be 
saved.  He  invites,  and  warns,  and  cautions,  and  expos- 
tulates, and  commands,  to  enforce  this  conviction.  He 
corrects  mistakes,  he  detects  deception,  he  instructs  ig- 
norance, he  entreats  obstinacy. 

One  of  the  most  fatal  delusions  of  unsanctified  men  is 
attacked  in  the  text :  As  Iliue^  saith  the  Lord  Ood,  I  have 
no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked.  Satan  persuades 
many  a  sinner  that  the  pleasure  of  Grod  is  opposed  to  his 
salvation — that  he  fails  of  being  a  Christian,  not  because 
he  will  have  it  so,  but  because  God  will  have  it  so.  This 
notion,  as  we  told  you  on  two  former  occasions,  is  sus- 
tained (through  error)  by  considerations  drawn  especially 
from  three  sources ;  the  purposes  of  God ;  the  nature  of 
religion  ;  and  the  condition  of  man. 

The  first  two  of  these  we  have  already  considered. 

We  have  showm  that  the  Purposes  of  God  offer  no 

violence  to  our  liberty,  and  do  not  oblige  us  to  be  lost. 

We  detected  the  foundation  of  the  error,  which  consists 

in  supposing  that  they  c/o,  and  showed  that  this  is  an 


328  GOD  NO  PLEASURE  IN  THE 

unfounded  conclusion,  because  it  is  drawn,  in  all  its  parts, 
and  as  a  whole,  from  premises  unknown. 

Then  we  took  up  the  next  error.  We  vindicated  the 
character  of  our  religion.  We  showed  that  those  features 
of  it  which  corruption  and  error  consider  most  severe, 
really  wear  no  aspect  of  severity — that  there  is  nothing 
in  our  religion  which  reason  and  justice  do  not  sanction 
not  only,  but  nothing  which  reason  and  justice  and  com- 
mon sense  could  content  to  dispense  with:  and  that, 
therefore,  the  religion  required  of  us  is  not  so  difficult  as 
to  show  that  God  has  any  pleasure  at  all  in  our  being 
lost. 

Still  there  is  another  refuge  to  which  sin  flies — the 
condition  of  man.  When  the  Divine  purposes  and  our 
Divine  religion  can  not  be  forced  to  excuse  a  sinful  man 
for  his  irreligion — when  the  decrees  of  God  are  cleared 
from  the  slanders  which  wickedness  utters  against  them, 
and  the  religion  of  the  Gospel  is  proved  so  reasonable 
and  appropriate  that  nothing  but  sin  and  stupidity  can 
reject  it — then,  the  condiiioii  of  man  is  called  in  as  an 
excuse  or  plea  for  irreligion.  This  condition  is  alleged 
to  be  of  such  a  nature  that  the  individual  can  not  extri- 
cate himself  from  it,  and  attain  salvation.  True,  he  says, 
the  decrees  of  God  may  not  confine  me  in  sin  and  bind 
me  over  to  perdition — true,  religion  itself  may  not  be  so 
severe  as  to  forbid  the  attainment  of  eternal  life,  while  it 
offers  all  I  can  ask  and  delivers  from  all  I  ought  to  fear. 
But  still,  my  own  condition  is  in  my  way.  I  have 
always  been  a  sinner.  Sin  is  natural  to  me.  I  am  in- 
clined to  evil.  The  dispositions  of  my  very  nature  con- 
fine me,  if  the  decrees  of  God  and  the  requirements  of 
religion  do  not.  Suppose  it  is  corruption,  stupidity,  folly 
to  reject  religion.     So  much  the  worse  for  me  :  stupidity, 


DEATH  OF   THE   WICKED.  829 

folly,  corruption  are  natural  to  me.  The  nature  which 
God  has  given  me — the  condition  in  which  I  am  placed, 
renders  my  case  hopeless.  So  he  talks — so  he  half 
thinks.  He  says  repentance  may  be  reasonable  enough, 
but  he  has  no  heart  to  repent:  religion  may  have  its 
attractions  for  some  people,  but  he  cannot  feel  interested 
in  the  matter. 

This  is  the  last  apology  which  our  text  opposes.  As  I 
live,  saith  the  Lord  God,  I  have  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
the  wicked.  God  here  exonerates  himself.  He  has  not 
placed  a  sinner  in  such  a  condition  as  forces  him  to  sink 
down  into  hell.  He  has  not  given  him  a  nature  incapa- 
ble of  deliverance,  and  thus  being  a  proof  that  he  has 
any  pleasure  at  all  in  his  ruin. 

Now,  there  are  six  characteristics  of  this  apology  (an 
apology  drawn  from  the  nature  of  man)  which  ought 
carefully  to  be  noticed.  Let  us  look  at  them.  If,  after 
after  examining  them,  we  find  this  apology  for  our  irre- 
ligion  a  good  one,  let  ns  live  upon  it — ^let  ns  die  upon 
it — let  us  carry  it  on  our  lips  to  the  bar  of  the  final 
judgment.  From  truth  we  have  nothing  to  fear.  And 
if  it  is  true  that  our  condition  obliges  us  to  be  lost,  let 
us  take  that  idea  along  with  us  to  annihilate  half  the 
pains  of  perdition. 

I.  The  first  characteristic  of  this  apology  for  irreligion 
is,  that  it  is  altogether  hasty.  How  does  this  irreligious 
man  know  that  his  depravity  is  invincible  ?  What  right 
has  he  to  conclude  that  his  condition  is  such,  that  he 
can  not  accept  religion,  repent,  and  be  saved  ?  Has  the 
Almighty  told  him  so,  who  alone  knows  perfectly  his 
nature,  and  perfectly  knows  the  religion  that  he  enjoins 
as  adapted  to  it?     The  Almighty  has  told  him  no  such 


330  GOD   NO   PLEASURE   IN   THE 

thing.  He  commands  him  to  repent,  to  believe  in  Christ, 
to  turn  to  God  and  Hve.  How  then  does  he  know  that 
his  nature  forbids  his  salvation  ?  He  does  not  know  it ; 
and  the  supposition  is  only  a  hasty  conclusion  which  has 
no  foundation  in  truth. 

If  he  had  tried — if  he  had  made  a  full  expeument  in 
the  matter,  and,  after  doing  all  he  could  do  (as  sinners 
sometimes  say  they  have,)  had  found  all  his  efforts  una- 
vailing, then  there  would  be  some  ground  for  his  con- 
clusion. But  he  has  not  tried.  (Men  do  err  when  they 
sa}^  so.)  Some  little,  feeble,  unfrequent  attempts  perhaps 
he  ma}^  have  made.  But  he  has  not  done  all  he  could. 
There  are  three  proofs  of  his  hasty  conclusion  gathered 
from  the  experiment  itself  which  he  afS.rms  he  has  made. 
1.  It  was  an  unwise  one.  2.  It  was  a  feeble  one.  3.  It 
was  a  short  one.     Glance  at  these  items. 

1.  It  was  an  univise  one.  For  where,  upon  this  whole 
footstool  of  God,  is  there  a  man  still  irreligious,  who  has 
ever  informed  himself,  so  perfectly  as  he  might  have 
done,  about  what  God  requires  of  him,  and  what,  there- 
fore, he  must  do  to  be  saved  ?  Lay  your  finger  on  the 
man  still  without  religion,  who,  though  he  has  sometimes 
made  some  attempts  to  be  religious,  has  done  all  he 
could  to  be  wise  unto  salvation^  and  learn  the  method  he 
must  take  to  get  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.  You 
can  not  do  it.  Among  all  the  multitude  of  unbelievers 
around  us,  where  is  one  whose  Bible  does  not  cry  out 
to  him.  Thou  has  greatly  neglected  me  ?  Whose  closet 
does  not  exclaim.  Thou  art  greatly  a  stranger  here? 
Whose  studies,  prompted  by  the  j)ride  of  learning,  or 
devoted  to  the  wealth  and  honors  of  this  world,  do  not 
bear  testimony  that  the  will  of  God  and  the  way  of 
salvation  have  lain  much  in  the  background,  as  things 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  331 

to  be  thought  of  onlj^  occasionally,  or  in  some  little 
shred  of  time,  when  there  was  nothing  else  to  do  ?  And 
if  the  attempt  to  be  religious  has  been  made  very  much  in 
this  hap-hazard  manner,  without  striving  for  that  wisdom 
necessary  to  make  it  as  it  should  be,  surely  the  conclu- 
sion that  the  nature  of  man  renders  it  an  impossibility, 
is  altogether  hasty. 

And  if  the  experiment  was  unwise,  so, 

2. .  It  was  feeble.  Call  to  mind,  unconverted  man,  the 
energy  you  exerted.  Compare  the  efforts  you  made  for 
salvation  (efforts  which  you  now  complain  were  unavail- 
ing)— compare  them  with  the  efforts  you  are  accustomed 
to  make  for  other  things.  Ask  your  honors,  if  they 
have  not  cost  you  more  toil  and  time,  more  study  and 
solicitude,  than  you  have  ever  devoted  to  your  salva- 
tion. Ask  your  science,  gathered  with  days  of  diligence 
and  nights  of  sleeplessness,  if  it  did  not  cost  you  more 
effort  than  you  have  ever  given  to  religion.  Ask  your 
wealth,  if  it  has  been  hoarded  by  no  more  care  and 
caution,  and  toil  and  trembling,  than  you  have  devoted 
to  the  one  thing  needful.  What  will  these  things  answer  ? 
What  is  the  testimony  of  any  thing  you  have  got — jouv 
learning — your  merchandise — your  skill — ^your  houses — 
or  herds  ?  Will  they  tell  you,  that  3^ou  have  devoted 
no  more  energy  to  their  acquisition  than  you  have 
devoted  to  attain  salvation?  Far  otherwise.  Their 
testimony  is  all  against  you.  It  proves  that  your  at- 
tempts after  religion  were  feeble  attempts.  Then  call 
up  your  passions.  Ask  them  to  testify  of  your  religious 
endeavors.  Ask  your  pride,  if  you  have  done  as  much 
to  subdue  it  to  the  rules  of  religion  as  you  have  done  to 
foster,  gratify,  and  sustain  it,  in  opposition  to  them. 
Ask  ambition,  if  you  have  directed  her  eager  eye  to- 


832  GOD  NO  PLEASURE   IN  THE 

ward  tlie  liigli  places  in  Christ  Jesus  as  often  as  toward 
some  seat  of  honor  among  men.  Ask  covetousness,  if 
you  have  guided  its  aim  to  the  duroMe  riches  of  everlast- 
ing life  as  often  or  as  fondly,  as  to  the  gold  that  perisheth. 
Both  your  possessions  and  your  passions  give  a  terrible 
testimony  on  such  a  trial.  They  plainly  affirm  that 
such  energy  has  been  devoted  to  them,  as  has  never 
been  devoted  to  religion.  In  the  one  case  you  have 
done  much,  and  done  it  vigorously ;  in  the  other,  you 
have  done  little,  and  done  it  feebly.  And  if  your  at- 
tempt to  be  religious  has  been  made  so  feebly,  surely  the 
conclusion  that  the  condition  you  are  in  by  nature  pro- 
hibits your  being  religious  is  altogether  hasty.  There 
is  not  an  unconverted  sinner  here  who  has  done  all  he 
could  to  be  saved.  If  you  were  to  die  to-night — if  to- 
night, at  the  moment  the  clock  strikes  twelve,  you  knew 
you  were  to  be  taken  out  of  the  world,  and  have  your 
eternal  destiny  sealed — j^ou  would  do  what  you  have 
never  done,  and  your  cry  of  anguish  would  go  up  into 
heaven,  loaded  with  pleadings  for  mercy. 

And  even  if  your  trial  to  obtain  salvation  has  not 
been  feeble  and  unwise — if  you  have  studied  all  in  your 
power  to  know  what  you  ought  to  do,  and  aimed  with 
all  your  energy  to  do  it,  remember, 

3.  The  experiment  was  short.  A  few  months — per- 
haps a  few  weeks — perhaps  even  only  a  few  days,  were  sin- 
cerely devoted  to  it — ^yea,  perhaps  only  a  few  occasional 
attempts,  made  when  some  fearful  alarm  compelled  you 
to  do  it.  And  after  so  short  an  experiment,  such  tran- 
sient attempts,  are  you  prepared  to  conclude  that  your 
nature  is  such  that  you  can  not  be  a  Christian  and  be 
saved  ?  What  if  you  had  reasoned  thus  in  science  ? 
what  if  you  had  come  to  the  conclusion  that  you  were 


DEATH   OF  THE   WICKED.  833 

incapable  of  any  science  you  may  have  mastered,  when 
you  had  tried  no  longer  than  you  have  ever  tried  in  re- 
ligion ?  What  if  you  had  reasoned  thus  as  a  merchant? 
what  if  you  had  concluded  that  you  were  incapable  of 
pursuing  the  mercantile  profession,  when  you  had  only 
made  an  entrance  upon  your  apprenticeship,  and  had 
tried  the  matter  no  longer  than  you  have  ever  tried  in 
religion  ?  What  if  you  had  reasoned  thus  as  a  mechan- 
ic ?  what  if  you  had  concluded,  at  the  first  blunders  you 
made  with  your  tools,  that  you  were  by  nature  incapable 
of  learning  to  use  them  skillfully,  when  you  had  tried  no 
longer  than  you  have  at  any  time  tried  in  religion? 
What  if  you  had  reasoned  thus  about  getting  rich? 
what  if  you  had  concluded  that  jon  were  incapable  of 
any  success  the  very  next  month  after  you  entered  upon 
your  enterprise,  when  you  had  tried  with  no  more 
patience  than  you  have  ever  tried  in  religion  ?  Had  you 
reasoned  so,  science,  intelligence  as  a  merchant,  skill  as  a 
mechanic,  art,  wealth,  honor  would  never  have  been  at- 
tained, or  whatever  else  you  may  have  acquired  in  spite 
of  the  obstacles  or  inaptitudes  of  your  nature. 

You  believed,  perhaps,  that  you  need  only  devote  a 
little  time  to  your  salvation,  and  you  would  be  safe — jon 
would  come  to  repentance,  be  a  new  creature,  a  disciple 
of  Christ.  But  where  did  you  get  this  opinion  ?  God 
has  not  told  you  so,  and  does  not  your  entertaining  so 
low  an  opinion  of  religion  go  far  to  prove  that  you  have 
taken  little  pains  to  be  wise  ?  The  religion  that  God  en- 
joins upon  us  is  not  an  affair  to  be  done  up  in  a  moment, 
and  ever  afterwards  neglected :  it  is  not  a  matter  of  mere 
occasional  concernment,  but  one  of  constant  interest,  and 
demands  constant  attention  till  the  day  we  die.  And  if 
your  attempt  to  be  a  Christian  has  been  so  limited  as  to 


SB4:  GOD  NO   PLEAS UKE   IN  THE 

extend  only  to  a  few  years — if  you  have  not  continued 
it  till  the  last  day  of  life  is  spent,  and  the  last  breath  of 
life  has  departed  from  your  nostrils,  you  have  no  right 
to  come  to  the  conclusion  that  you  have  made  a  perfect 
trial.  But  how  different  from  this  have  been  your  at- 
tempts !  feW;  short,  and  far  between  !  And  perhaps  you 
ceased  from  them  just  as  you  were  on  the  point  of  suc- 
cess. It  may  be  that  one  effort  more,  one  praj^er  more, 
would  have  gained  you  the  victory,  and  made  you  a 
child  of  God.  You  ceased  to  fight  when  the  battle  was 
almost  won,  and  became  more  of  a  slave  than  before ! 
And  if  the  attempt  to  attain  salvation  has  been  so  short, 
surely  the  conclusion  that  your  condition  prohibits  your 
being  a  Christian  is  altogether  hasty.  Your  trial  in  the 
matter  has  been  unwise,  feeble,  short — therefore  no  fair 
trial  at  all. 

II.  The  second  characteristic  of  the  apology  drawn  from 
the  condition  of  human  nature,  is  its  illegitimateajjjjlication. 
When  the  depravity  of  nature  is  alleged  by  the  irrelig- 
ious as  an  obstacle  to  the  practice  of  evangelical  virtues, 
and  allowed  to  have  some  claim  to  consideration,  the 
irreligious  are  accustomed  to  make  it  into  an  apology  for 
running  into  vice  :  they  construe  their  inability  to  good 
into  a  necessity  of  evil — their  negation  of  power  to  be 
altogether  holy  into  a  positive  power  and  positive  neces- 
sity to  sin  worse  and  worse,  in  vanity,  thoughtlessness, 
and  lack  of  prayer.  Their  insufiiciency  for  evangelical 
virtue,  aside  from  the  aids  of  Divine  grace,  they  torture 
into  a  necessity  of  committing  whatever  wickedness  they 
know  themselves  to  be  guilty  of. 

This  is  an  application  of  the  depravity  of  human 
nature  which  I  should  be  sorry  to  make.     Impotent  as 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  335 

the  "unrenewed  man  may  be  for  bearing  the  fruits  of  the 
Spirit^  he  is  under  no  necessity,  from  that  impotence,  of 
running  into  those  courses,  or  those  vices  and  crimes, 
which  so  rapidly  sear  his  conscience,  and  degrade  his 
nature,  or  those  vanities  which  take  off  his  mind  from 
every  thing  good.  Let  him  afGirm  he  can  do  nothing  in 
religion  without  grace,  and  we  will  agree  with  him. 
But  when  he  af&rms  his  insufl&ciency,  without  special 
grace,  to  abstain  from  those  practices  which  so  rapidly 
render  him  incapable  of  religion,  by  blinding  mind  and 
blunting  conscience,  we  disagree  with  him.  And  this  is 
the  misapplication  he  makes  of  the  condition  of  human 
nature.  He  does  not  distinguish  between  the  insuffi- 
ciency for  religion,  and  the  necessity  of  thoughtlessness 
and  vanity  and  vice.  When  the  Bible  teaches  him  that 
he  can  not  be  a  Christian  without  the  aids  of  the  Divine 
Spirit,  he  misinterprets  it,  pretending  it  has  taught  him 
that  he  can  not  avoid  the  wickedness  of  which  he  is 
guilty.  But  there  is  a  vast  difference  betwixt  our  in- 
sufficiency without  grace  for  the  practice  of  evangelical 
rehgion,  and  the  necessity  of  rendering  ourselves,  by 
negligence  and  prayerlessness,  still  more  insufficient. 
We  may  be  unable  to  break  our  bondage,  but  we  are  not 
forced  to  forge  its  chains.  Our  incapacity  to  burst  our 
fetters  is  not  a  necessity  to  make  them  stronger,  and  rivet 
them  on.  There  is  a  wide  difference  betwixt  being  con- 
fined to  a  bed  of  sickness,  unable  to  rise  to  the  strong 
exercises  of  life,  and  being  obliged  to  employ  the  deadly 
drug  or  dagger  to  take  away  whatever  of  strength  and 
life  we  have.  But  these  two  things  are  confounded  by 
those  who  plead  their  depravity  as  an  apology  for  their 
irreligion.  Tiiey  make  no  distinction  between  their  un- 
assisted incapacity  for  being  Christians,  and  the  una  void- 


836  GOD  NO   PLEASUKE   IN  THE 

able  necessity  of  plunging  themselves  into  courses  of  neg- 
ligence, forgetfulness,  and  furtlier  departure  from  God. 

This  error  in  reasoning  would  be  of  less  consequence, 
were  it  not  the  cause  of  much  ruinous  practice.  But  the 
results  of  it  are  most  deplorable.  By  an  abuse  of  the 
Scriptures,  a  sinful  man  persuades  himself  that  he  can  not 
(without  special,  converting  grace)  avoid  the  inattention 
to  religion,  the  carelessness  and  dissipation  of  mind  of 
which  he  is  guilty ;  and,  consequently,  he  excuses  him- 
self while  he  indulges.  He  is  guilty  of  that  inattention 
to  Divine  truth,  which  he  might  avoid  without  grace. 
He  runs  into  those  excesses  from  which  his  own  powers 
might  save  him.  And  by  this  course  of  carelessness  and 
dissipation  of  mind,  he  renders  himself  still  less  capable 
of  turning  from  sin  and  securing  salvation.  He  resem- 
bles a  prisoner  furnished  with  a  key  to  unlock  his  prison, 
who,  instead  of  using  it,  flings  it  away.  He  resembles  a 
man  in  a  gulf,  from  which  he  is  unable  to  extricate  him- 
self, and  who,  instead  of  availing  himself  of  the  aid  prof- 
fered for  his  deliverance,  turns  from  the  hand  that  would 
lift  him  out,  and  plunges  still  deeper  down  the  chasm 
that  stretches  its  unfathomable  abysses  beneath.  And 
if  by  such  madness  he  places  himself  beyond  the  reach 
of  assistance,  let  him  not  imagine  that  God  has  pleasure 
in  his  ruin — that  his  condition  demonstrates  it.  For  if 
he  had  used  the  powers  he  had,  and  accepted  the  aid  he 
might  have  had,  deliverance  instead  of  death  would 
have  been  his  portion.  Yerily,  God  has  no  pleasure  in 
the  death  of  tlie  wicked.  0  Israel,  thou  has  destroyed 
thyself. 

HI.  The  third  characteristic  of  this  apology  drawn  from 
the  natural  condition  of  man — (a  condition  which  is  taken 


DEATH   OF   THE    WICKED.  337 

to  go  far  to  prove  tliat  tlie  pleasure  of  God  is  opposed  to 
a  sinner's  salvation),  is  the  tendency  of  this  apology  to 
excuse  from  moral  virtues.  These  are  virtues  which 
those  practice  who  have  not  been  renewed  by  the  Spirit 
of  God.  This  fact  shows  them  capable  of  being  practiced 
without  the  aids  of  supernatural  grace.  Other  motives 
than  the  love  of  God,  and  other  aims  than  holiness  have 
influence  upon  human  conduct.  But  when  the  power  of 
human  depravity  is  alleged  as  an  apology  for  not  being 
Christians,  men  make  it  into  an  apology  also  for  neglect- 
ing the  moral  virtues.  How  often,  how  very  often,  does 
the  idea  come  across  the  mind  of  a  sinful  man,  that  his 
inattention  to  moral  duties  is  more  excusable,  because  he 
has  never  professed  to  be  a  Christian  I  If  he  were  a  child 
of  God,  he  says  he  should  feel  himself  obligated  to  all 
good  conduct ;  but  he  is  under  the  control  of  a  fallen 
nature — of  an  unrenewed  heart.  This  is  the  reason  that 
he  does  not  feel  bound  by  the  laws  of  outward  conduct, 
which  he  says  bind  a  believer.  But  God  has  not  made 
him  an  exception.  He  has  given  him  these  laws,  and 
commanded  him  to  obey  them.  And  if  he  has  refused 
to  cultivate  evangelical  graces  under  the  sought  guidance 
of  the  Holy  Spirit,  certainly  he  has  the  more  fearful 
reason,  on  that  account,  for  an  external  obedience — for 
sobriety — for  thought — for  practicing  all  the  moral  vir- 
tues. But  what  does  he  do  ?  He  alleges  his  native  dis- 
position, his  heart,  while  he  casts  off  fear  and  restrains 
prayer,  and  indulges  the  lust  of  the  fleshy  the  lust  of  the  eye^ 
and  the  pride  of  life^  and,  by  doing  so,  he  is  burying  in 
the  earth  the  one  talent  committed  to  him,  unfaithful  over 
a  few  things,  simply  because  he  has  not  many  things.  He 
forfeits  confidence  and  claim  to  more. 

15 


338  GOD   NO   PLEASURE   IN  THE 

Because  external  conduct  is  not  internal  grace,  be- 
cause the  moral  virtues  have  not  necessarily  the  nature 
of  evangelical  religion,  (though  such  religion  invariably 
leads  to  them  ;)  sinful  men  often  mistake  the  bearing  of 
these  virtues.  The  man  who  lives  in  the  neglect  of  them 
(virtues  of  which  by  nature  he  is  capable)  is  taking  the 
most  direct  course  to  render  himself  insensible  and  inac- 
cessible to  the  motives  and  means  of  an  evangelical  relig- 
ion. Those  who  have  broken  over  one  restraint,  have 
acquired  strength,  and  courage,  and  tendency  to  attack 
another.  Those  who  neglect  the  outward  duties  of  re- 
ligion, have  taken  the  surest  means  to  shut  out  from  the 
heart  the  inward  spirit  of  religion.  Those  who  have 
learnt  to  be  shameless  before  man,  have  taken  one  step 
toward  being  fearless  before  God. 

The  apology  of  native  condition,  therefore,  as  it  leads 
so  naturally  and  commonly  to  some  neglect  of  moral 
virtue  and  some  carelessness  in  the  outward  actions 
which  have  respect  to  religion,  has  a  tendency  to  unfit 
the  soul  for  evangelical  graces.  The  condition  of  man 
by  nature  does  not  force  him  to  all  this.  Let  him  not, 
then,  allege  his  condition  as  an  apology  for  the  want  of 
those  virtues  and  that  conduct,  of  which  by  nature  he  is 
capable — and  which,  for  aught  he  knows,  may  be  the 
necessary  and  surest  means  for  his  becoming  a  child  of 
God.  Let  him  take  the  blame  to  himself,  and  confers  that 
God  has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked.  Morals,  the 
very  morals  he  neglects — habits  of  thought  and  prayer, 
habits  he  never  forms,  might  be  to  him  as  stepping-stones 
and  scaffoldings  to  help  him  him  up  to  the  height  he 
never  reaches — the  heavenly  places  in  Christ  Jesus — the 
spiritual  temper  of  a  child  of  God. 


DEATH   OF   THE   WICKED.  339 

lY.  The  fourth  characteristic  of  this  apology,  (taken 
from  the  condition  of  man,)  is  its  direct  irreligious  ten- 
dency :  it  is  taken  as  an  excuse  for  the  neglect  of  those 
religious  duties  which  every  irreligious  man  is  capable  of 
performing.  There  are  such  duties.  The  perfect  and  ac- 
ceptable performance  of  them  in  sincerity,  in  spirit  and  in 
truths  may  not  lie  within  such  a  man's  power ;  but  there  is 
an  action,  an  endeavor  which  such  a  man  may  put  forth, 
if  he  will.  But  how  often  does  such  a  man  neglect 
prayer,  because,  as  he  alleges,  he  is  incapable  of  the  true 
performance  of  the  duty  !  How  often,  for  the  same  rea- 
son, does  his  Bible  lie  neglected — his  seat  in  church  be- 
come vacated — his  thoughts  of  God  unfrequent,  and 
every  external  religious  duty  remain  unattempted  !  But 
all  this  is  not  from  any  necessity  of  nature.  It  is  willing 
disobedience.  There  is  nothing  in  his  native  condition 
which  compels  to  this.  However  the  power  of  his  will 
may  be  inefficacious  over  his  heart,  it  has  full  efficacy 
over  his  habits.  If  he  can  not  manage  his  spirit,  he  can 
manage  his  manners.  The  external  duties  of  religion  lie 
quite  within  the  scope  of  his  ability,  and  if  these  are 
neglected,  what  shall  show  that  it  would  not  be  the 
same  with  all  spiritual  duties  if  they  lay  as  much  within 
the  range  of  his  power  ?  And  if  he  is  unable,  while  not 
horn  of  the  Spirit^  to  render  spiritual  worship  and  service, 
surely  there  is  the  more  urgent  reason  for  coming  as  near 
to  it  as  he  can.  The  bones  in  Ezekiel's  valley  did  not  he 
still  under  the  words  of  his  prophesy.  Bone  came  to  his 
hone.  They  took  the  shape  of  a  living  humanity.  Sinews^ 
and  fleshy  and  skin  came  upon  them  ;  else,  how  could  the 
spirit  of  life  enter  into  his  tabernacle  ?  K,  therefore,  a 
man  fails  of  salvation,  because  he  neglects  the  religious 
conduct  of  which  he  is  capable,  let  him  not  charge  his 


340  GOD   NO   PLEASURE   IN   THE 

failure  upori  the  pleasure  of  Grod  manifested  in  his  native 
condition  ;  let  him  confess,  as  he  sinks  into  hell,  that  God 
has  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicJced. 

Y.  The  fifth  characteristic  of  this  apology  is  the  idle- 
ness attending  it.  Hope  is  an  active  principle.  Despond- 
ency is  an  inactive  one.  The  Gospel  of  God  addresses 
hope.  Temptations  are  addressed  either  to  worldliness 
or  to  despair.  The  man  who  gets  the  idea  fixed  in  his 
mind,  that  God  has  no  pleasure  in  his  salvation,  is  there- 
by prevented  from  striving  to  attain  it.  He  says  all  his 
efforts  will  be  unavailing — his  condition,  as  a  sinner  by 
nature,  will  mock  all  his  endeavors.  But  God  has  not 
said  so.  The  text  says  the  contrary.  Where  has  God 
told  us  that  we  can  accomplish  nothing  in  working  out 
our  salvation  ?  Where  has  he  told  us  to  rest  contented, 
or  rest  discouraged,  till  he  converts  us  ?  Where  has  he 
said,  that  striviny  to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate  will  be  of  no 
avail  ?  What  passage  of  his  word  assures  us,  that  the 
Holy  Ghost  is  going  to  convert  us  in  our  idleness — that 
all  the  attempts,  and  prayers,  and  cries  of  the  unsancti- 
fied  are  unnoticed  in  Heaven  ?  Still,  because  a  sinful 
man  is  dependent  upon  the  aids  of  grace,  he  excuses 
himself  for  attempting  nothing.  He  does  not  exert  the 
powers  he  has,  and  which  God  requires  him  to  exert. 
He  charges  upon  the  condition  in  which  his  Maker  has 
placed  him  in  the  world,  what  does  not  belong  to  his  con- 
dition, and  what  he  has  capacity  to  avoid.  He  can  avoid 
his  negligence,  his  idleness,  his  inattention,  his  prayer- 
less  habits,  without  converting  grace — yea,  and  he  will 
avoid  them,  if  he  is  ever  saved.  For  where  is  the  Chris- 
tian who  ever  became  a  Christian  in  his  idleness  ?  Who 
was  ever  delivered  from  the  bondage  of  sin,  without 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  341 

effort  at  deliverance?  Ask  any  cliild  of  grace,  if  Lis 
experience  will  testify  that  personal  effort  is  an  unneces- 
sary thing.  More :  ask  him,  if  sincere,  determined 
effort,  hope  and  heart  embarked  in  it,  was  ever  unavail- 
ing. God  does  require  unconverted  sinners  to  seek  him 
■ — to  deny  themselves — to  pray  for  mercy  ;  and  strive  to 
enter  in  at  the  strait  gate.  And  what  ground  or  right 
has  any  sinner  on  this  side  of  the  smoke  of  the  torment^ 
to  say  or  to  believe,  that  his  nature  is  such,  that  all  these 
will  be  of  no  avail — as  if  God  were  mocking  his  miseries  ? 
Man,  indeed,  does  not  convert  himself.  Nor  is  he 
converted  by  the  mere  force  of  the  motives  before  him. 
Yet  an  unrenewed  sinner  has  no  exuse  for  his  idleness. 
He  ought  to  unite  what  God  has  united  in  his  Word — 
the  duties  of  the  sinner,  and  the  agency  of  God.  Work 
out  your  own  salvation  with  fear  and  tremhling :  here  is  the 
duty  of  the  sinner.  For  it  is  God  that  worJceth  in  you 
both  to  will  and  to  do:  here  is  the  agency  of  God. 
Behold  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock:  here  is  the  agency 
of  God.  If  any  man  will  hear  my  voice  and  ojpen  the  door : 
here  is  the  duty  of  the  sinner.  Make  you  a  new  heart  and 
a  new  spirit^  for  why  will  ye  die :  this  is  the  duty  of  man. 
I  will  take  away  the  stony  heart  out  of  your  fleshy  I  will  put 
my  spirit  within  you,  I  will  make  you  my  sons  and 
daughters :  this  is  the  agency  of  God.  And  where  upon 
all  the  earth  is  the  sinner  who  can  say  he  has  done  what 
he  could,  and  still  has  gained  nothing — his  efforts  not 
seconded  by  the  agency  of  God  ?  Let  him  not  charge 
upon  his  native  condition  what  does  not  belong  to  it. 
Let  him  not  lay  down  the  fruits  of  his  idleness  at  the 
door  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Let  him  confess,  as  he  sinks 
to  perdition,  tlie  Lord  God  hath  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of 
the  wicked. 


342  GOD  NO  PLEASURE   IN"  THE 

VI.  Finally.  The  most  strange  perversion  of  all,  is  the 
argument  from  the  depravity  of  nature,  for  not  seeking  the 
aids  of  grace — the  saving  efficiency  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
This  is  the  use  which  a  sinful  man,  in  his  obstinacy, 
hardness,  and  wickedness,  often  makes  of  his  insuffi- 
ciency to  save  himself  Because,  just  because  he  is  in- 
sufficient luiihout  the  Spirit  of  God,  he  neglects  to  ask  for 
the  Spirit  of  God.  The  very  reason  which  ought  to  fill 
his  mouth  with  arguments  and  send  up  his  cries  thick 
into  Heaven,  is  made  to  silence  his  prayers,  and  to  excuse 
that  cherished  alienation  from  God  which  refuses  to 
pray.  He  says  he  can  not  be  saved,  or  attain  any  thing 
embraced  in  salvation,  by  any  power  of  his  own.  All 
that  is  true.  Aside  from  the  Holy  Spirit,  his  case  is  just 
as  hopeless  as  if  judgment  had  already  proceeded  upon 
him.  And  this  is  the  great  reason  why  he  should  be- 
siege the  throne  of  grace,  as  standing  upon  the  very 
borders  of  the  pit,  that  God  would  save  him  from  going 
down  to  eternal  death  !  This  he  can  do.  His  condition 
does  not  prohibit  it.  This  he  ought  to  do.  His  con- 
d,ition  demands  it. 

We  know  how  much  has  been  said  about  the  irresisti- 
bleness  of  converting  grace.  But  God  has  not  said  it. 
His  Word  holds  a  different  language.  Indeed  it  very 
much  sounds  like  an  opposite  language  when  it  says  : 
Quench  not  the  Spirit :  grieve  not  the  Holy  Spirit  of  God 
whereby  ye  are  sealed.  And  how  often  does  the  Divine 
Word  promise  gracious  assistance  to  human  endeavors  : 
If  ye  ivill  seeh  me  as  silver^  and  search  for  me  as  for  hid 
treasures.  How  often,  too,  does  it  account  for  religious 
failures  :  Because  ye  have  forsaken  me,  therefore  I  have  for- 
saken you.  And  even  then,  how  often  does  it  enjoin 
upon  us  to  seek  after  efficacious  grace  :  In  me  is  thy  help, 


DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED.  343 

return  unto  me,  and  I  will  return  unto  you.  After  all  this, 
therefore,  while  a  sinful  man  refuses  to  seeh  the  Lord,  to 
call  upon  him  who  is  so  ready  to  give  the  Holy  Sjnrit  to 
them  that  ask  him,  let  him  not  complain  of  the  condition 
in  which  he  finds  himself.  That  condition  is  not  in- 
compatible with  his  seeking  and  obtaining  help  from 
God.  Let  him  take  the  blame  of  his  ruin,  if  he  will 
perish,  upon  himself.  Let  him  say,  as  he  sinks  into  hell, 
The  Lord  God  hath  no  j^leasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked. 

Bad  as  the  condition  of  man  may  be,  that  condition 
does  not  oblige  him  to  be  lost.  God  has  not  j)ronounced 
his  doom  in  the  act  of  his  creation.  Let  him  make  of 
his  native  dispositions  and  his  dependence  what  he  may, 
he  can  not  draw  from  such  sources  an  argument  for  his 
exculpation,  if  he  continues  an  irreligious  man.  There 
is  nothing  to  be  found  in  the  purposes  of  God,  in  the 
nature  of  required  religion,  or  in  the  condition  of  a 
sinner  as  he  is  born  into  the  world,  which  proves  that 
the  pleasure  of  God  is  opposed  to  the  salvation  of 
sinners. 

The  economy  of  grace  far  more  than  compensates  for 
the  difficulties  which  beset  us.  Be  our  condition  what 
it  may,  God  accommodates  his  aids  to  meet  all  its 
exigences.  He  offers  to  save.  He  would  break  every 
chain,  guide  in  every  perplexity,  cast  down  every  foe, 
light  up  every  midnight,  and  lead  his  own  child  by  the 
hand,  till  his  feet  stand  on  the  pavements  of  the  New 
Jerusalem.  He  comes  to-day  to  say  unto  you :  As  L  live^ 
Lhave  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked. 

Who  ought  to  despair  ?  What  sad  heart  should  limit 
the  Hol}^  One  of  Israel  ?  Where  is  the  discouraging  cir- 
cumstance, the  difficulty  or  the  devil,  that  should  be  al- 
lowed to  damp  my  heart,  v/hen  I  would  put  forth  my 


844    GOD  NO  PLEASURE  IN  THE  DEATH  OF  THE  WICKED. 

feeble  strengtli  to  lay  hold  on  eternal  life  f  Fear  not, 
trembler.  Greater  is  he  that  is  in  you  than  he  that  is  in  the 
world.  You  shall  come  off  victorious,  if  you  do  not 
falter  and  give  back. 

Who  ought  to  neglect  ?  Where  is  the  doomed  sinner 
that  may  not  seek  salvation  and  find  it  ?  Who  is  shut 
out  from  grace  and  heaven  by  any  thing  there  is  in  God  ? 
It  is  not  his  decree  that  violates  your  liberty  and  binds 
you  in  fetters  of  sin.  It  is  not  his  religion  that,  by  its 
difficulty,  mocks  your  misery.  It  is  not  your  condition 
in  sin  that  shuts  up  heaven  and  kindles  the  devouring 
flame !  The  soul  that  is  lost  will  feel  the  tormenting 
truth  that  it  has  carried  out  its  own  destiny  ;  that  salva- 
tion was  once  within  its  reach,  but  it  neglected  and 
spurned  the  mercy  which  offered  to  deliver !  Amid  the 
miseries  of  the  lost — amid  those  chains  of  darkness  that 
weigh  down  the  damned — the  wail  of  the  lost  soul  will 
be,  /  have  destroyed  myself  for  the  Lord  God  has  no  pleas- 
ure in  the  death  of  the  ivicked. 

My  dear  friends,  let  us  believe  in  God's  mercy.  Let 
us  seek  his  grace  now^  and  seek  it  all  our  days.  Let  us 
bear  our  burden  of  guilt  or  difficulties,  our  hard  hearts, 
up  to  the  top  of  Calvary ;  and  where  the  blood  of  the 
Victim  streams  upon  the  rock,  let  us  plead :  Deliver — 
oh  deliver  me  from  going  down  to  eternal  death,  for 
thou,  Lord  God^  hast  no  pleasure  in  the  death  of  the  wicked. 


f)tl^  ill  (Sc^  for  ^\ViVitx&. 

In  me  is  thy  help. — Hosea,  xiii.  9. 

TTTHEN"  sinners  are  seeking  salvation,  it  is  very  im- 
'  '  portant  that  tliey  should  know  where  to  find  it. 
This  world  is  full  of  errors  and  follies.  Men  have  not 
much  wisdom  at  best ;  and  there  is  no  subject  on  which 
they  are  so  likely  to  err  as  the  subject  of  salvation.  No- 
where else  does  the  heart  exert  such  an  influence  over 
the  mind.  On  no  other  subject  are  the  conclusions  to 
which  God  would  lead  men  so  much  at  variance  with 
the  conclusions  at  which  they  naturally  desire  to  arrive. 
God  teaches  us  in  his  "Word  that  the  hearts  of  men  are 
not  right  toward  him ;  that  men  have  carnal  minds 
which  are  at  enmity  with  God ;  and,  therefore,  we  might 
expect  that  what  God  likes  men  would  not  like,  what 
God  desires  men  would  not  desire,  and  what  God  re- 
quires of  them  they  would  be  very  unwilling  to  perform. 
And  when  we  look  abroad  in  the  world  we  find  it  is  so. 
They  do  not  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  Ood^  putting  eternity 
before  time.  Unregenerated  men  do  not  usually  live  in 
any  good  degree  as  God  would  have  them  live.  For  the 
most  part,  they  are  not  men  of  prayer.  They  meet  their 
families  in  the  morning,  and  part  with  them  in  the  even- 
ing, without  asking  God's  blessing.     It  is  not  so  with  all 

15* 


846  HELP  IN"  GOD  FOE  SINNERS. 

unconverted  men,  but  with  the  most  of  tliem.  And  just 
so  in  respect  to  other  things  that  God  requires  of  them. 
Thej  are  not  pleased  with  the  requirements  of  God,  and, 
therefore,  though  they  are  driven  bj  fear  to  obey  some 
of  them,  yet  they  are  not  pleased  with  them,  and  their 
attempted  obedience  is  very  limited. 

Kow,  since  unregenerated  men  are  so  apt  to  be  dis- 
satisfied with  the  rules  of  God  every  where  else,  we  might 
expect  them  to  be  dissatisfied  with  the  plan  of  salvation, 
and  make  many  mistakes  when  they  are  seeking  to  be 
saved.  Not  that  God  will  suffer  them  to  err  and  to  be 
lost  if  they  sincerely  seek  him  with  an  honest  heart,  open 
to  the  truth ;  no,  let  them  do  this,  and  they  will  not  err 
to  their  destruction.  But  the  evil  is,  that  they  are  not 
willing  to  yield  their  hearts  to  God  ;  and  while  they  are 
under  the  unbroken  influence  of  a  carnal  heart,  they  are 
apt  to  run  into  errors,  even  though  in  some  measure 
seeking  to  be  saved. 

And  I  do  not  know  of  any  essential  truth  necessary  to 
be  known,  and  felt,  and  practiced  upon,  that  awakened 
sinners  are  so  apt  to  lose  sight  of,  as  the  one  in  this  text. 
God  says,  In  me  is  thy  lielp.  The  meaning  of  this  is  un- 
limited. The  sinner's  only  help  is  in  God.  He  can  not 
help  himself  He  can  not  take  one  step  toward  heaven 
without  the  aid  of  the  Almighty.  He  is  lost — ^he  is 
ruined — his  case  is  just  as  hopeless,  without  Divine  aid, 
as  if  he  had  gone  down  to  the  blackness  of  darkness,  and 
the  doors  of  his  eternal  prison-house  had  closed  upon 
him !  There  is  no  respect  in  which  he  can  help  himself. 
He  is  often  willing  to  admit  and  willing  to  feel,  that  he 
can  not  blot  out  his  own  sins  ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  is 
not  willing  to  feel  that  he  possesses  such  a  heart,  that  with- 
out an  immediate  act  of  God  upon  it,  he  will  never  turn 


HELP   IN   GOD   FOR    SINNERS.  347 

from  Ms  wickedness,  hate  sin  and  be  fitted  for  heaven. 
But  though  he  is  unwilling  to  feel  this,  it  is  true.  The 
sinner  is  as  much  dependent  upon  God  to  make  him 
ready  for  heaven,  as  he  is  to  open  heaven  for  his  entrance. 
He  possesses  such  a  heart  that,  without  Divine  influence, 
he  will  never  love  God,  love  holiness,  and  accept  salva- 
tion in  Jesus  Christ. 

This  is  the  thought  to  which  I  propose  to  direct  your 
attention.  In  God,  awakened  sinner,  is  your  help. 
"Without  this  help  you  will  never  have  a  heart  that  is 
right  with  him,  you  will  never  be  reconciled  to  him,  you 
will  never  be  a  new  creature  in  Jesus  Christ,  nor  enjoy 
the  happiness  of  heaven. 

1.  The  first  proof  of  this  is  found  in  the  language  of 
your  Bible.  God  here  speaks  of  those  who  are  in  a  state 
of  salvation,  as  horn  of  God — horn  of  the  Spirit.  Surely, 
this  language  must  mean  that  God  has  helped  them — 
that  it  is  an  immediate  act  of  the  Holy  Spirit  which  has 
made  them  new  creatures. 

2.  The  second  proof  is  found  in  the  nature  of  the  un- 
renewed heart.  It  is  a  heart  that  is  desperately  wicked. 
Its  wickedness  is  hopeless.  There  is  no  hope  in  it.  It 
is  a  heart  that  is  opposed  to  God  and  holiness,  and  in 
love  with  wickedness,  the  world  and  sin.  Now  it  is  easy 
to  see  that  such  a  heart  will  not  turn  to  God,  and  love 
God,  and  desire  holiness,  without  some  influence  different 
from  its  own  natural  desires.  Its  desires  are  not  one  of 
them  holy,  and  it  has  no  pleasure  in  holiness.  It  is  a 
contradiction  to  say  that  an  unholy  feeling  desires  holi- 
ness A  desire  for  holiness  is  holiness,  because  it  is  a 
holy  desire ;  but  the  unsanctified  heart  has  no  holiness, 
and  therefore  no  real  desire  for  it.  And  it  can  not, 
therefore,  be  the  desire  of  an  unholy  heart  to  turn  to 


848  HELP  IN  GOD  FOR  SINNERS. 

God  and  be  holj,  because  its  love  of  sin  forbids  tbis. 
And  if  God  leaves  sucb  a  heart  to  itself,  there  is  no  hope 
for  it :  wickedness  will  reign  and  rankle  in  it,  till  destruc- 
tion comes  and  there  is  no  remedy  ! 

8.  The  third  proof  of  the  necessity  of  Divine  influ- 
ence is  found  in  the  inefiiciency  of  all  other  influence. 
Here  are  unconverted  sinners,  whose  parents  and 
friends  have  exerted  their  endeavors  in  vain  to  persuade 
them  to  set  their  affections  upon  things  above,  where  Jesus 
Christ  sitteth  07i  the  right  hand  of  God.  All  their  lives  they 
have  been  surrounded  with  the  strong  influence  of  Chris- 
tianity and  Christian  friends ;  and  all  their  lives  they 
have  been  able  and  willing  to  resist  that  influence,  be- 
cause their  hearts  loved  sin.  They  have  been  proud,  and 
obstinate,  and  unyielding.  They  have  heard  many 
strong,  and  tender,  and  affecting  persuasions.  But  all 
this  has  not  saved  them,  and  never  will.  An  angel 
might  preach  to  them,  and  his  words  would  not  turn 
them  from  sin  without  Divine  influence.  It  is  not  all 
that  earth  or  Heaven  can  do,  that  will  turn  one  sinner  to 
Jesus  Christ,  if  God  denies  him  his  Spirit.  His  help  is 
in  God — ^not  in  the  influence,  the  persuasions,  the  en- 
treaties, or  the  eloquence  of  men. 

4.  The  fourth  proof  is  found  in  the  inefl3.cacy  of  all 
motives.  God  has  placed  before  you,  my  dear  friends, 
all  the  motives  that  can  have  any  tendency  to  influence 
you  to  repent  and  give  your  hearts  to  God,  and  you  have 
resisted  them  all.  Every  unconverted  sinner  here  has 
been  told,  time  after  time,  of  the  infinite  love  of  God — 
of  his  eternal  wrath — ^of  the  unceasing  torments  of  the 
lost — of  the  unlimited  mercy  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  the 
endless  felicities  that  the  penitent  shall  have  in  heaven. 
But  these  motives  are  not  effectual.     Many  of  you  can 


HELP  IN"  GOD  FOR  SINITEES.  349 

hear  of  heaven  and  hell  as  unmoved  as  if  you  had  no 

souls.  And  you  go  on,  year  after  year,  pressing  your 
way  in  thoughtlessness  to  eternity,  in  spite  of  the  songs 
of  the  blest  and  the  groans  of  the  lost !  Your  hearts 
are  so  much  in  love  with  sin,  that  eternity  may  roll  be^ 
fore  you — Jesus  Christ  may  tell  you  of  his  love — God 
may  threaten — heaven  invite,  and  hell  may  blaze,  still 
onward  you  go,  the  same  unregenerated  sinner!  All 
these  motives  do  not  turn  you  to  God,  because  your 
wicked  hearts  refuse  them,  resist  them  all.  Such  hearts 
would  resist  any  thing.  All  Heaven  might  come  down, 
and  it  would  not  move  such  a  heart  to  repentance.  All 
Hell  might  come  up,  and  it  would  not  be  motive  enough 
to  make  you  love  God ! 

I  am  willing  to  admit  that  you  are  not  always  sensible 
of  your  resistance  ;  but  the  reason  is,  that  you  consider 
these  things  so  little,  and  examine  your  own  hearts  and 
lives  so  little,  that  you  remain  in  almost  entire  ignorance 
of  yourselves.  If  you  would  look  into  this  matter,  there 
is  not  one  of  you  who  would  not  soon  find  that  you  are 
resisting  the  strongest  motives  to  penitence  and  piety, 
that  even  God  can  present  before  your  minds.  Where 
is  a  more  endless  motive  than  your  immortality  ?  Where 
a  more  blessed  one  than  heaven  ?  or  a  more  awful  one 
than  hell?  Surely,  if  your  hearts  would  yield  to 
motives,  you  have  enough. 

Still,  many  of  you  are  waiting  for  stronger  motives. 
You  are  somewhat  awake  to  this  subject,  and  you 
vainly  imagine  that  some  more  powerful  motive  would 
bring  you  to  God.  But  you  will  have  none.  If  you 
will  not  yield  to  those  before  you,  you  will  die.  Heaven 
will  not  become  more  happy  to  win  you,  nor  hell  more 
miserable  to  warn.     God  is  as  merciful  now  as  he  ever 


850  HELP  IN  GOD  FOR  SINNERS. 

will  be,  and  Jesus  Christ  is  as  able  and  willing  to  save, 
and  the  Holy  Spirit  is  as  ready.  It  is  wickedness  and 
pride  of  heart,  and  not  want  of  motives,  that  keeps  you 
in  your  sins. 

Sinners  do  persuade  themselves,  and  they  are  able  to 
persuade  themselves,  that  some  stronger,  more  powerful 
motives  would  influence  them  to  turn  to  God.  And  I 
remember  one  who  carried  this  idea  along  with  him  into 
eternity,  and  when  his  own  soul  was  lost,  he  thought  if 
one  were  sent  from  the  dead  to  preach  to  his  unconverted 
brethren  on  earth,  they  would  repent.  But  he  was  told, 
that  if  they  believed  not  Moses  and  the  Prophets,  they  would 
not  believe  though  one  were  sent  unto  them  from  the  dead. 
Motives  do  not  convert  men.  They  have  been  tried,  and 
you  have  resisted  them ;  and  many  of  you  are  resisting 
them  still.  Your  help  is  in  God,  not  in  motives.  Aside 
from  Divine  influence,  you  will  never  yield  to  the 
motives  of  the  Gospel ;  and  if  you  ever  know  your  own 
hearts,  you  will  know  that  nothing  but  the  power  of  God 
can  make  them  yield  to  the  motives  before  you.  You 
will  have  no  other.  If  you  do  not  yield  to  these, 
through  Divine  assistance,  you  can  not  be  saved. 

These  proofs  ought  to  convince  you  that  in  God  is 
your  help.  Aside  from  his  agency,  you  can  not  be  saved. 
This  is  one  of  the  leading  truths  of  the  Gospel  we 
preach  to  you — one  of  the  essential  principles  of  that 
religion  which  must  lead  you  to  heaven,  if  you  are  ever 
saved. 

But  remember,  your  helplessness  is  your  guilt.  You 
are  so  helpless,  just  because  you  are  so  sinful.  Your  sin 
is  voluntary,  and  that  is  the  worst  feature  of  your  case. 
If  no  redemption  had  been  made  for  you,  and  if  you 
were  not  willingly  continuing  in   your  sin,   then  your 


HELP   IN  GOD   FOR   SINNERS.  851 

criminality  would  not  be  so  great,  though  jour  condition 
were  deplorable.  But  your  helplessness  is  your  sinful- 
ness. Your  attachment  to  sin  is  what  makes  you  so 
helpless.     . 

II.  Let  us  now  see,  in  the  next  place,  if  we  can  not 
gather  some  practical  improvement  and  profitable  direc- 
tions from  this  doctrine. 

1.  We  learn  from  this  subject  the  folly  of  those  who 
seek  salvation  in  themselves.  There  are  not  a  few  who 
do  this  and  think  themselves  safe.  They  reform  their 
morals ;  they  attempt  to  restrain  and  regulate  their  own 
hearts ;  they  have  much  resolution  on  this  subject,  and 
imagine  if  they  keep  on  a  little  while,  they  will  soon  be 
very  good  Christians.  And,  no  doubt,  multitudes  of 
poor,  deluded  sinners  rest  just  here.  They  think  they 
have  done  much,  and  expect  they  shall  do  still  more,  and 
finally  shall  get  at  salvation.  But,  all  this  time,  the  true 
nature  of  their  own  hearts,  the  real  extent  of  their  wick- 
edness, has  not  been  discovered.  If  they  had  opened 
their  hearts  before  God — if  they  had  seen  themselves  in 
the  light  of  his  holy  character — if  they  had  entered  into 
the  real  science  of  their  sinfulness,  and  known  what  they 
are,  they  would  have  had  no  more  hope  of  putting  their 
own  hearts  right  without  immediate  help  from  God,  than 
they  v/ould  of  raising  the  dead  ;  they  would  as  soon  ex- 
pect to  make  a  world  as  to  save  themselves. 

It  is  all  very  true  that  the  sinner  who  seeks  salvation 
must  strive  against  sin,  must  shun  temptation,  must  deny 
himself,  must  guard  well  his  heart,  or  he  will  not  be 
saved.  But  when  he  relies  upon  himself  and  not  on 
God,  when  he  seeks  to  help  himself  instead  of  seeking 
help  from  God,  he  is  leaning  on  a  broken  reed !     With- 


852  HELP  IN  GOD  FOR  SINNERS. 

out  Divine  aid  he  will  die.  He  can  not  help  himself. 
And  if  he  only  seeks  to  do  this,  without  trusting  to  God 
to  help  him,  he  may  seek  for  ever ;  he  wall  not  be  saved. 
Those  are  false  conversions,  spurious  and  useless,  which 
are  made  by  the  mere  will  of  the  flesh  and  without  the 
Divine  Spirit. 

But  man  must  work  luhile  he  depends.  Divine  grace 
and  creature  effort  go  hand  in  hand.  WorJc  out  your  sal- 
vation with  fear  and  trembling^  for  it  is  God  who  worheth  in 
you  both  to  tuill  and  to  do.  Man  must  work  just  as  dili- 
gently as  if  he  had  no  Divine  assistance  to  pray  for  and 
rely  upon ;  at  the  same  time,  he  must  trust  just  as  implic- 
itly as  if  he  had  done  nothing  at  all.     Hence, 

2.  We  learn  from  this  subject  the  reason  why  so  many 
of  those  who  are  awakened  to  a  sense  of  Divine  things, 
and  begin  to  seek  salvation,  never  attain  it.  It  is  simply 
because  they  try  to  save  themselves.  They  wish  to  take 
themselves  out  of  the  hands  of  God.  They  rely  on  their 
own  strength,  their  own  purposes,  and  power,  and  wis- 
dom simply.  They  will  not  throw  themselves  without 
reserve  into  the  hands  of  Divine  Mercy,  and  let  God  do 
with  them  as  he  will.  They  hold  back  their  hearts  from 
God,  just  as  many  in  this  house  are  now  doing,  vainly 
imagining  that  they  can  regulate  their  own  hearts  and 
put  them  right.  It  is  in  self,  not  in  God,  that  they  are 
seeking  help.  No  sinner  ever  yet  failed  of  salvation,  or 
ever  will,  who  cast  himself  upon  the  mercy  and  power 
of  God;  and  no  sinner  ever  attained  salvation,  or  ever 
will,  who  seeks  only  to  take  care  of  himself,  to  manage 
his  own  heart.  He  might  as  well  attempt  to  chain  the 
lightning  or  tame  the  heaving  surges  of  the  sea.  Try 
how  you  will,  continue  it  as  long  as  you  will,  if  you  only 
depend  upon  yourself,  you  will  not  be  saved.     It  is  God 


HELP  IN  GOD  FOR  SINNERS.  853 

alone  tliat  can  save  you,  and  if  you  will  not  depend  on 
him  to  control  and  help  you,  you  will  die  in  your  sins. 

3.  We  learn  why  it  is  that  sinners  who  are  making 
some  attempts  to  be  saved,  sometimes  continue  so  long 
in  affliction  and  trouble  before  they  find  peace  with  God. 
It  is  simply  because  they  do  not  seek  help  in  God.  At 
one  time  they  are  relying  on  the  advice  of  friends — at 
another  on  the  prayers  of  Christian  people — at  another 
on  some  winning  or  alarming  sermon.  Indeed,  they  are 
very  apt  to  fly  to  any  thing  but  God.  And  they  give 
themselves  a  great  deal  of  unnecessary  trouble,  and  linger 
long  in  bondage,  because  they  will  not  come  to  God  to 
help  them ;  will  not  turn  unto  the  Lord  that  he  may  have 
mercy  upon  them,  and  unto  our  Ood  who  will  abundantly 
pardon.  This  is  the  case  with  many  of  you  who  hear 
me.  You  are  relying  upon  yourselves,  your  friends,  or 
opportunities  to  save  you.  You  flatter  yourself  that  the 
use  of  means  will  save  you.  You  have  hopes  that  your 
conversations  with  one  another  will  by-and-bye  put  your 
heart  right,  not  remembering  that  the  wicked  are  always 
strengthening  one  another  in  sin.  And  thus,  day  after 
day,  you  are  lingering  on  the  soil  of  death,  while  you 
might  be  saved  if  you  would  seek  help  in  God.     Hence, 

4.  We  learn  what  is  the  great  struggle  of  the  sinner 
in  coming  to  salvation.  It  is  simply  to  give  his  wicked 
heart  to  God.  This  is  what  God  commands  him  to  do  ; 
this  is  what  the  Holy  Spirit  is  now  striving  to  have  him 
do ;  this  is  what  you  must  do,  or  you  must  die  in  sin ! 
And  you  whose  minds  are  awake  on  this  matter  of 
eternal  life,  will  find  no  other  great  difficulty  in  being 
saved,  but  that  which  you  find  in  your  own  hearts.  It 
is  not  want  of  willingness  and  power  in  God  to  save 
you — ^it  is  not  want  of  light  or  want  of  motives — it  is 


B54:  HELP  IN  GOD   FOR  SINNERS. 

your  own  obstinate  and  hard  heart  that  keeps  you  from 
salvation.  Sometimes  you  trouble  yourselves  with  one 
thing,  and  sometimes  with  another,  which  have  nothing 
to  do  with  your  salvation,  and  not  only  so,  but  the}^  are 
things  which  take  off  your  mind  from  your  own  present 
and  pressing  duty — repentance  and  submission  to  God  in 
the  faith  of  Christ.  Sometimes  you  are  attempting  to 
make  yourselves  feel  this  subject  more  deeply,  and  you 
excuse  yourselves  from  coming  at  once  to  God  for  salva- 
tion, with  the  vain  plea  that  you  can  not  repent  till  you 
are  more  troubled  than  you  are  now.  But  God  does 
not  tell  you  to  be  searching  after  more  strong  impress- 
ions ,  he  tells  you  to  repent  now ;  and  he  is  striving  by 
his  Spirit  to  bring  you  to  repentance  now.  And  suppose 
you  were  more  distressed  and  afflicted  about  yourself, 
what  good  do  you  suppose  that  would  do  you,  while  you 
hold  yourself  unmoved  in  sin  ?  There  are  multitudes  of 
sinners  whose  hearts  are  overwhelmed  with  distressing 
convictions,  and  stil]  it  does  them  no  good,  and  never  will. 
Hell  contains  hosts  of  them ;  but  their  convictions  do 
not  change  their  hearts,  and  they  would  not  change 
yours.  And  your  expressions  about  want  of  more 
anxiety  and  feeling  on  this  subject  are  only  designed  by 
your  deceitful  wickedness,  to  keep  you  from  a  present 
duty — giving  your  hearts  to  God,  denying  self  and  fol- 
lowing Christ.  Do  you  not  see  that  while  you  allege 
your  want  of  feeling,  as  a  reason  for  your  impenitence, 
your  heart  takes  it  as  an  excuse  for  not  repenting,  and, 
therefore,  keeps  you  half  at  ease,  as  if  you  were  under 
no  obligation  to  be  a  Christian  now  ?  God  has  shown 
you  enough  to  convince  you  of  your  necessity  of  seek- 
ing help  from  him  ;  and  still  you  will  not  come  to  him 
for  help.     And  if  you  do  not  struggle  harder  against 


HELP   IN   GOD   FOR  SINNERS.  355 

the  influence  of  your  wicked  hearts  than  you  have  yet 
done,  I  have  no  hope  that  you  will  be  saved.  Your 
strife  is  not  with  God,  it  is  with  yourself.  God  is  will- 
ing to  save  you.  He  is  striving  to  bring  you  to  himself, 
and  you  are  resisting  his  Spirit  while  you  continue  to 
excuse  yourself.  Instead  of  contending  against  yourself 
as  you  ought  to  be,  you  are  alleging  reasons  why  you 
are  still  in  your  impenitence ;  and  thus  hardening  your- 
self in  sin  and  resisting  Divine  influence.  Not  that  you 
mean  to  do  it — but  such  is  your  unhappy  mistake.  You 
ought  to  yield  your  heart  to  God  to  love  him  supremely — 
you  ought  to  cry  out  to  him  for  help — to  cast  yourself 
upon  his  aid.  This  you  must  do,  or  you  must  perish. 
And  this  is  the  only  obstacle  in  the  way  of  your  salva- 
tion ;  I  mean  your  unwillingness  to  yield  to  God's  Spirit — 
to  seek  your  help  from  his  mercy — to  give  your  wicked, 
wayward  heart  to  Jesus  Christ,  and  let  him  save  you 
from  yourself     Hence, 

5.  "We  learn  that  awakened  sinners  are  often  doing,  or 
attempting  to  do,  something  directly  contrary  to  what 
they  suppose.  They  imagine  that  they  are  trying  to 
yield  themselves  to  God  in  faith  and  submission,  while, 
in  fact,  they  are  striving  to  avoid  it.  The  God  of  all 
love  and  grace  would  have  them  come  to  him,  as  poor, 
unworthy  sinners,  guilty  and  helpless,  and  trust  him  to 
save  them:  this  would  be  faith.  They  are  attempting 
to  manage  themselves,  instead  of  relying  upon  God. 
The  Lord  Jesus  Christ  would  have  every  burdened 
sinner  come  to  him  and  find  rest  for  his  soul.  The 
sinner  wishes  to  find  rest  first,  and  then  he  intends  to 
come.  And  while  he  is  attending  to  this  subject  with 
anxiety,  and  prayers,  and  tears,  he  is  attempting  to 
accomplish  for  himself  the  very  thing  which  he  ought 


356  HELP  IN  GOD   FOR  SINNERS. 

to  know  that  God  must  perform  for  liim,  if  lie  is  ever 
saved.  But  he  is,  on  the  one  hand,  too  proud  and  too 
self-righteous  to  feel  that  he  needs  the  unmerited  help  of 
God,  and,  on  the  other,  he  has  such  an  unbelief  and 
such  an  aversion  to  his  God,  that  he  is  unwilling  to  seek 
and  to  rely  upon  the  aid  that  God  alone  can  give  him. 
And  thus  many  an  awakened  sinner,  instead  of  striving 
to  do  what  God  commands  him  to  do,  is  really  striving 
to  avoid  it.  He  hates  to  trust  God — hates  to  hear  of  his 
helplessness  and  dependence — hates  to  feel  that  he  is  a 
guilty  sinner  deserving  the  eternal  frowns  of  his  God, 
and  as  such  a  sinner  to  give  himself  to  Jesus  Christ  to  be 
saved  from  wrath  through  him.  And,  therefore,  he  is  at- 
tempting to  save  himself.  He  strives  to  find  something 
or  make  something  in  his  own  heart,  on  account  of 
which  he  will  be  accepted  of  God.  It  is  pride — wicked 
and  unhumbled  pride — and  he  is  fostering  it!  He  is 
willing  to  think  of  himself  as  wretched,  but  not  as 
guilty  !  He  is  willing  to  weep  over  his  condition  as  a 
misfortune,  but  not  as  a  crime  !  He  is  seeking  for  God 
to  pity  him,  but  not  to  pardon  him  !  It  is  unhappiness, 
not  sin,  from  which  he  is  seeking  deliverance,  and  he  is 
willing  to  be  indebted  to  the  power  of  God  to  deliver 
him  from  his  calamity,  but  he  is  too  proud  to  cast  him- 
self upon  the  mercy  of  God  to  pardon  his  sins  and  renew 
his  heart.  And,  therefore,  all  his  striving  is  only  an  at- 
tempt of  an  unhumbled  heart  to  justify  itself.  He  is, 
unconsciously,  resisting  God.  He  is  attempting  to  do 
something  directly  contrary  to  what  he  himself  supposes. 
Hence, 

6.  We  learn  that  awakened  sinners  are  often  guilty  of 
resisting  the  Holy  Spirit,  while  they  are  vainly  flattering 
themselves  that  they  are  doing  well.     The  Holy  Spirit 


HELP   IN   GOD   FOR   SINNERS.  357 

would  lead  them  to  Jesus  Christ — would  have  them  trust 
his  mercy  to  save  them — would  have  them  come  to  him, 
just  as  they  are,  poor,  vile,  lost  sinners,  and  beg  for 
mercy.  They  are  not  ready  and  willing  to  do  so.  They 
imagine  they  shall  be,  but  they  are  not  ready  now :  they 
have  not  yet  brought  their  hearts  to  a  right  state,  but 
they  mean  to  do  it.  Thus,  they  are  resisting  the  Holy 
One  by  delay ^  and  refusing  the  mercy  of  Jesus  Christ  in 
pride^  and  relying  on  themselves  to  put  their  own  hearts 
right  instead  of  seeking  help  in  God,  giving  him  their 
hearts  that  he  may  change  them.  They  wish  to  save 
themselves ;  at  least  to  do  something  in  the  matter,  enough 
to  save  their  pride.  But  the  Holy  Spirit  condemns  their 
delay,  their  self-reliance,  their  pride.  And  in  a  little 
time,  they  may  be  left  of  God !  K  they  will  not  have 
his  help,  if  they  will  resist  his  influence,  if  they  will  love 
sin  and  rely  upon  themselves,  they  can  have  no  help 
from  God !     Hence, 

7.  Finally,  we  learn  that  sinners  are  their  own  de- 
stroyers. God  has  done  for  them  all  that  is  needful  to 
open  heaven,  and  block  up  the  road  to  hell.  It  is  true 
they  can  not  save  themselves ;  but  if  they  would  allow  it, 
God  would  save  them.  Look  and  see  :  The  counsels 
of  Eternal  Love  embraced  the  sacrifice  of  Jesus  Christ — 
in  the  fullness  of  time  that  sacrifice  was  offered  up — the 
justice  of  God  was  satisfied,  his  law  honored,  and  the 
whole  way  into  heaven  opened  before  the  guilty,  lost 
sinner.  And  not  only  so,  but,  after  the  invitation  is  sent 
out — Corne^  for  all  things  are  now  ready — ^the  Holy  Ghost 
himself  comes  down  to  strive  with  sinners  to  bring  them 
to  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  He  has  come  here.  And 
here  are  sinners  who  are  resisting  him !  God  the  Father 
loves  them,  and  is  tiot  willing  that  they  should  perish; 


858  HELP  IN   GOD  FOE  SINNERS. 

God  the  Son  is  waiting  to  receive  them ;  and  God  the 
Holy  Ghost  is  making  the  last  effort  in  the  economy  of 
grace  to  bring  them  to  repentance  and  salvation,  to  have 
them  yield  their  hearts  to  God  and  trust  in  the  blood  of 
his  Son.  All  this  God  has  done  to  help  them,  to  save 
them,  and  they  have  refused  it  all !  Yerily,  their  de- 
struction is  of  themselves!  They  refuse  the  aid  of 
Heaven !  And  this  is  what  I  mean  when  I  say  if  they 
would  allow  it,  God  would  save  them !  Salvation  is  free. 
No  man  perishes  because  he  must.  No  man  goes  down 
to  hell,  but  he  goes  there  willingly,  of  his  own  will  turn- 
ing a  deaf  ear  to  the  voice  of  imploring  Mercy,  which 
follows  him  to  the  very  door,  Tarn  ye^  turn  ye,  for  why 
will  ye  die!  No  man  goes  down  to  hell,  but  he  goes 
there  wading  in  the  blood  of  an  offered  atonement  enough 
for  his  soul !  No  man  goes  down  to  hell,  but  he  goes 
there  resisting  the  Spirit  of  all  grace  admonishing  him 
kindly  in  the  inside  of  his  own  heart,  Prepare  to  meet  thy 
God!  Ail  Heaven  is  ready  to  save  him,  if  he  will  con- 
sent to  be  saved.  Guilt  can  not  damn  him — hell  can  not 
claim  him — the  Devil  can  not  thwart  him,  if  he  will  con- 
sent to  be  saved!  Surely,  if  sinners  perish,  they  are 
their  own  destroyers !  If  they  continue  to  reject  such 
grace,  as  they  are  now  doing,  they  must  perish,  but 
Heaven,  and  all  the  help  of  heaven  will  be  clear  of  their 
blood! 

Awakened  sinner,  remember  that  you  are  guilty,  not 
only  of  rejecting  Jesus  Christ,  and  refusing  the  love  of 
God,  but  you  are  guilty  of  doing  despite  to  the  Spirit  of  all 
grace.  Your  error  is  not  all  of  the  past.  It  belongs  to 
the  present.  Now,  God  is  striving  to  save  you.  He  has 
given  you  already  all  the  help  you  need,  if  you  would 
but  receive  it  and  not  reject  it.     It  is  not  for  want  of 


HELP   IN   GOD   FOR   SINNERS.  869 

Divine  influence  that  you  are  not  a  Christian ;  it  is 
because  you  resist  Divine  influence.  It  is  true  3^our  only 
help  is  in  God ;  and  it  is  true,  too,  that  you  are  guilty  of 
refusing  it  in  your  unbelief.  This  hour,  my  dear  friend, 
you  may  be  saved,  if  you  will :  and  in  this  hour,  if  j^ou 
refuse  the  help  of  God,  you  are  guilty !  All  heaven  is 
ready  for  your  salvation  :  and  all  the  wickedness  of  earth 
and  hell  can  not  destroy  you  if  you  will  cease  to  resist 
the  Almighty,  and  will  cast  yourself  upon  the  unbound- 
ed, unmerited  mercy  of  your  God. 

Then,  be  wise  and  live.  Turn  ?/e,  for  why  will  ye  die  f 
God  is  love.  Heaven  is  merciful.  Angels  will  rejoice 
over  you.  Jesus  Christ  will  save  you ;  and  peace  will 
come  over  your  soul,  when  you  can  look  to  heaven,  and 
say,  God  is  my  helper,  I  will  not  fear. 


I'orgiHiu^^^ 


Forgiving  one  another,  if  any  man  have  a  quarrel  against  any :   even  as  Christ 
forgave  you,  so  also  do  ye. — Colossians,  iii.  13. 

fpHE  forgiveness  enjoined  liere  (wbicli  constitutes  the 
-■-  tlieme  of  tHs  sermon)  is  mentioned  as  a  specifica- 
tion, or  as  a  particular  duty,  coming  in  as  one  of  the 
things  embraced  under  a  general  principle.  The  general 
principle  is  mentioned  just  before,  and  relates  to  general 
disposition :  Put  on,  therefore,  bowels  of  mercies,  kindness , 
humbleness  of  mind,  meekness,  long-suffering.  These  are 
general  dispositions  to  be  cherished.  Then,  as  growing 
out  of  this  state  of  mind,  or  as  forming  one  of  the  applica- 
tions of  this  general  disposition,  the  Divine  writer  men- 
tions the  duty  of  forgiveness — forgiving  one  another,  if 
any  man  have  a  quarrel  against  any.     We  propose, 

I.  To  explain  this  duty. 

II.  To  present  some  considerations  to  enforce  it. 

III.  To  make  some  remarks  upon  the  general  subject. 
This  is  our  plan. 

I.  The  explanation  of  forgiveness  is  not  so  simple  a 
thing  as  one  might  at  first  imagine.  Like  all  other 
moral  duties  which  go  beyond  external  action  and  relate 
to  the  internal  disposition,  it  has  an  extent,  and  there- 


FOKGIVEJSTESS.  861 

fore,  an  importance  and  obscurity  about  it,  which  render 
it  liable  to  be  misunderstood. 

There  would  be  no  foundation  or  call  for  its  exercise, 
w^ere  it  not  for  sin.     In  a  universe  or  world  never  visited 
b}^  moral  evil,   and  wherein   the   affections   and   inter- 
course of  all  the  inhabitants  were  uniformly  regulated 
by  holiness,  there  would  never  occur  a  single  one  of 
those  injuries  or  offenses,   real  or  imaginary,  which  so 
often  in  this  disordered  world  provoke  to  resentment. 
All   would  be   harmony  and    peace.     All    intercourse 
would  be  happy — without  a  jar  and  without  suspicion. 
All  duty  would  be  done,  and  the  doing  of  it  would  be 
"universally  satisfactory.     On  the  one  hand,  there  would 
be  no  disposition  to  infringe  an  item  upon  the  rights  or 
injure  the  feelings  of  others ;  and  on  the  other  hand, 
there  would  be  no  disposition  to  suspect  any  such  evil. 
But  in  a  sinful  world  it  is  not  so.     It  is  different  on  both 
sides.     Offenses  here  will  come  :  they  must  come,  on  ac- 
count of  the  injustice  of  sin.     And  the  evil  is  rendered 
still  worse,  because  of  the  readiness  to  suspect  them ; 
which  is  also  one  of  the  results  of  sin,  in  a  great  measure, 
and  can  not  be  altogether  attributed  to  the  lessons  of  an 
unhappy  experience.     Experience,  no  doubt,  (so  unjust 
the  world  is,)  would  give  rise  to  a  degree  of  suspicion, 
and  put  a  wise  man  on  his  guard  against  injury  or  in- 
justice from  a  quarter  whence  he  had  often  received  it. 
But  his  suspicion,  as  a  sinner,  is  very  different  from  what 
it  would  be,  if  he  were  not  a  sinner :  it  is  more  ready, 
and  more  bitter,  and  vengeful.     So  that  the  forgiveness 
he  is  to  exercise  becomes  not  only  a  more  difficult  duty 
to  perform,  but  a  more  difficult  one  to  understand.     It 
will  not  be  easy  for  him  always  to  discriminate  betwixt 
the  abhorrence  of  injustice  which  he   may  righteously 


862  FORGIVENESS. 

feel,  and  tlie  enmity,  malice  or  hate,  whicli  lie  can  not 
feel  without  sin. 

Offense,  some  real  or  supposed  injury  or  injustice,  is 
the  subject-matter  of  forgiveness.  Against  an  offense, 
such  as  an  injury  or  an  insult,  such  as  some  injustice  to 
our  interests,  name  or  feelings,  we  are  so  constituted  that 
our  mind  naturally  rises  in  the  attitude  of  resistance.  If 
our  feelings  would  stop  there^  only  to  resist  injustice 
and  resist  it  fitly,  our  danger  would  be  comparatively 
small,  and  our  duty  comparatively  easy.  But  natural 
feeling  prompts  us  further :  it  does  not  stop  with  mere 
self-defense :  it  is  greatly  prone  to  anger  and  ven- 
geance. And  under  the  idea  that  the  offender  deserves 
punishment,  we  are  very  much  exposed  to  justify  our- 
selves for  inflicting  it  upon  him,  if  not  in  act  at  least  in 
the  feelings  with  which  we  regard  him.  The  duty  of 
forgiveness  relates  to  these  feelings.  The  duty  does  not 
stop  with  our  mere  forbearance  from  au}^  ii^j^ry  in  return, 
or  mere  forbearance  from  the  infliction  of  a  punishment 
supposed  to  be  deserved.  It  goes  further.  It  reaches 
the  inmost  feelings  with  which  we  regard  such  an  offend- 
er. To  lay  up  his  fault  or  offense  in  mind — to  cherish 
the  memory  of  it — to  entertain  an  unfriendly  feeling  on 
account  of  it,  is  just  the  opposite  of  forgiveness.  When 
the  mind  finds  the  offense  still  rankling  within  it,  and 
the  heart  is  less  disposed  to  good- will  on  account  of  it, 
there  is  a  manifest  lacking  in  the  spirit  of  forgiveness. 
True  forgiveness  is  opposed  to  any  remaining  dissatisfac- 
tion with  the  offending  individual.  It  may  be  judged  of 
just  by  this  rule,  to  wit :  whether  our  feelings  of  per- 
sonal kindness  and  good-will  toward  the  offender  have 
become  just  the  same  as  if  he  had  never  offended  us  at  all. 
If  they  have,  that  is  forgiveness  :  nothing  short  of  this  is. 


FOKGIVENESS.  363 

It  may  not  be  easy  for  us  to  discriminate  between  the 
offense  and  tbe  offender  always,  but  duty  requires  it. 
The  offense,  that  is,  any  injustice,  is  to  be  abhorred ; 
while  the  offender  is  to  be  forgiven.  A  regard  for  our 
own  rights,  interests,  character,  and  feelings  is  not  to  be 
sacrificed ;  we  are  gifted  with  the  power  of  resentment 
as  one  of  the  means  of  self-protection  against  the  unjust. 
And  such  resentment,  in  fit  kind  and  degree,  is  one  of 
the  securities  of  a  virtuous  society,  which  the  world  will 
never  be  able  to  dispense  with  as  long  as  sin  is  in  it. 
Crime  ought  to  be  abhorred,  and  the  abhorrence  mani- 
fested. Eesentment  ought  to  be  felt,  and  the  feeling 
ought  to  be  shown  when  crime  has  injured  us.  It  is  a 
wild  and  silly  dream  to  think  that  we  shall  do  the  world 
the  most  good  by  smiling  as  blandly  on  vice  as  on  virtue. 
Vice  has  never  been  cured  in  that  way,  and  never  will 
be.  But  hatred  of  vice  is  one  thing,  and  enmity  toward 
the  offender  is  quite  another.  Forgiveness  has  respect 
to  this  enmity,  in  all  its  shades  and  varieties.  It  would 
annihilate  it,  and  all  that  springs  from  it.  It  would  do 
this  in  every  instance  of  offense  wherein  the  offender 
evinces  his  repentance.  And  not  only  so,  but  it  is  a 
general  spirit  of  forbearance  and  kindness  not  ready  to 
think  evil,  but  on  the  contrary,  ready  to  forgive,  and  pass 
over  and  forget  a  thousand  instances  of  offense  and  in- 
jury without  any  explanation  at  all.  The  true  spirit  of 
forgiveness  will  not  be  apt  to  stick  on  the  point  of  resti- 
tution, or  repentance,  or  of  amendment  of  injury, 
especially  where  the  offense  was  only  personal,  and  has 
not  done  to  society  a  general  injury.  It  will  ordinarily 
ask  little  more  than  that  the  offender  shall  cease  to 
offend ;  and  will  often  go  beyond  this,  and  itself  cease 
to  he  offended  with  the  same  things. 


S^4:  FORGIVENESS. 

But,  wherever  the  specifications  of  its  duty  may  lie,  it 
is  opposed,  in  general,  to  all  anger,  revenge,  retaliation ; 
to  all  enmity,  bitterness  and  ill-will.  It  bears  with  in- 
juries, and  bears  long.  It  is  more  inclined  to  apologize 
for  them  than  to  hunt  up  aggravations  of  them.  It 
would  return  blessing  for  cursing,  and  good  for  evil,  and 
kindness  for  injury  and  hate. 

11.  Now  the  arguments  to  enforce  this  duty  are  worthy 
of  the  most  serious  consideration.  We  name  a  few  of 
them : 

1.  It  may  be  enough  for  any  true  believer's  conscience 
that  this  duty  is  so  often  and  so  emphatically  enjoined  in 
the  sacred  Scriptures.  They  have  laid  an  impressive  stress 
upon  it,  which  has  often  astonished  and  revolted  the 
minds  of  mere  men  of  the  world.  (Luke,  vi.  37  :)  For- 
give and,  ye  shall  he  forgiven.  (Eph.  iv.  32 :)  Be  ye  kind 
to  one  another,  tender-hearted,  forgiving  one  another,  even  as 
God,  for  Christ's  sake,  hath  forgiven  you.  (Matt,  xviii.  35:) 
JSo  likewise  shall  my  heavenly  Father  do  also  unto  you,  if  ye 
from  your  hearts  forgive  not  every  one  his  brother  their  tres- 
passes. (Matt,  xviii.  21,  22 :)  How  often  shall  my  brother 
sin  against  me  and  I  forgive  him  f  till  seven  times  ?  Jesus 
saith  unto  him^  I  say  not  unto  thee,  until  seven  times,  but 
until  seventy  times  seven.  (Matt.  xi.  25 :)  And  when  ye 
stand  praying,  forgive,  if  ye  have  aught  against  any,  that 
your  Father  also  which  is  in  heaven  may  forgive  you  your 
trespasses.  (Matt.  vi.  12  :)  Forgive  us  our  debts,  as  tve  for- 
give our  debtors.  There  is  unquestionably  a  sense  in  Avhich 
this  forgiveness  is  peculiarly  a  duty  of  Christians  toward 
their  Christian  brethren ;  just  as  to  do  good  especially  to 
them  who  are  of  the  household  of  faith  (Gal.  vi.  10)  is 
peculiarly  a  duty.     But  the  duty  is  not  confined  to  them 


FORGIVENESS.  865 

(Luke,  vi.  27,  37).  In  his  sermon  on  the  mount,  Jesus 
Christ,  in  laying  down  the  great  general  principles  of 
moral  duty,  applicable  every  where,  and  obligatory  upon 
every  body,  has  made  the  duty  universal:  Love  your 
enemies  ;  do  good  to  them  wldcli  hate  you  ;  condemn  not^  and 
ye  shall  not  he  condemned  ;  forgive^  and  ye  shall  he  forgiven. 
If  it  constitutes  a  matter  of  difficulty  or  embarrass- 
ment to  any  mind,  that  our  forgiveness  by  God  is  made 
to  hinge  on  our  forgiveness  of  men  that  offend  us,  as  if 
this  were  an  easy  way  to  attain  God's  forgiveness,  or  as 
if  this  were  an  unreasonable  ground  on  which  he  should 
dispense  it ;  the  embarrassment  may  be  removed  by  a 
little  reflection.  This  is  not  an  easy  way  to  attain  for- 
giveness of  God,  in  the  sense  that  men  would  attach  to 
it :  that  is,  it  is  no  more  easy  than  it  is  to  become  a  true 
Christian  indeed.  Aside  from  true  religion,  there  is  no 
true  forgiveness.  Irreligious  men  no  more  forgive  those 
who  offend  them,  than  they  love  God.  What  they  call 
forgiveness  is  not  such.  It  lacks  the  very  essence  of  the 
matter — the  heart,  the  life,  the  whole  thing.  It  com- 
monly consists  in  merely  consenting  not  to  hunt  an 
offender  and  punish — not  to  take  vengeance  upon  him — 
not,  perhaps,  to  notice  him  enough,  or  dignify  him 
enough  to  show  him  any  resentment ;  while,  at  the  same 
time,  the  heart  has  a  distance  and  coldness,  an  indifference 
toward  him,  which  gratifies  itself  with  sentiments  of 
scorn  and  contempt.  This  is  about  the  measure  of  the 
world's  forgiveness ;  at  best,  it  is  only  an  acquittal  from 
vengeance,-  or  coldness,  scorn,  and  indifference — just  the 
sentiment  of  selfishness  and  pride.  Far  different  is 
a  Christian's  true  forgiveness.  It  is  more  apt  to  sor- 
row over  an  offender  than  scorn  him.  There  is  no 
indifference  about  it.     It  is  full  of  interest.     It  mourns 


366  FORGIVENESS. 

the  offender's  offence,  even  if  he  does  not  mourn  it.  It 
mourns  it  for  the  offender's  sake.  And  while  it  for- 
gives him,  it  does  it,  not  in  coldness,  but  in  warmth, 
and  prays  God  to  forgive  him  also.  He  that  forgives 
shall  be  forgiven  of  God,  because  he  that  forgives  is 
a  true  follower  of  Christ — a  regenerated  man.  And  if 
men,  without  faith,  will  but  get  a  true  and  clear  idea 
of  what  forgiveness  is,  there  are  few  things  which  they 
will  find  it  more  difficult  to  perform.  The  outward 
action  they  may  indeed  put  forth.  They  may  restrain 
themselves  from  revenge.  They  may  stand  aloof  from 
all  injury  and  resentment.  But  it  is  only  standing 
aloof,  too  selfish  to  bend,  and  too  proud  to  scorn,  and 
too  indifiPerent  to  mourn  another's  unhappiness  and  sin. 
The  natural  heart  never  had,  and  never  will  have  the 
genuine  spirit  of  forgiveness  in  its  full  sense.  It  may 
smother  rage,  and  may  scorn  to  requite  an  injury;  but 
both  the  scorn  and  the  rage  are  proofs  of  an  unforgiving 
spirit.     The  commands  of  Christ  reach  the  heart. 

2.  The  general  amiability  of  human  character  or  dis- 
position depends  very  much  upon  the  nature  of  those 
feelings  which  are  habitually  entertained.  The  heart 
has  its  habits  of  sensibility,  as  well  as  the  mind  its  asso- 
ciation of  ideas.  The  harboring  of  sentiments  of  resent- 
ment, suspicion,  or  ill-will,  is  a  vice  among  the  affections 
which  tends  very  powerfully  to  form  an  unamiable  and 
unenviable  character.  On  the  contrary,  a  forgiving  dis- 
position, or  any  of  those  exercises  which  come  nearest  to 
it — the  restraint  of  anger,  the  checking  of  the  first  risings 
of  resentment,  the  putting  away  from  the  mind  all 
thoughts  of  the  offense,  aiming  to  think  as  well  of  the 
offender  as  possible,  instead  of  thinking  of  him,  in  dark 
and  distrustful  disposition,  as  ill  as  possible — will  tend, 


FORGIVENESS.  367 

and  tend  strongly  to  cultivate  an  amiableness  of  disposi- 
tion, alike  commendable  and  comfortable.  It  is  not  safe 
for  any  human  being  to  indulge  much,  and  habitually,  a 
resentful  and  unforgiving  temper.  No  man  can  do  it 
without  misleading  his  own  mind,  misguiding  his  heart, 
and  forming  to  himself  a  character  repulsive  and  odious. 
Faults  grow  upon  the  mind  that  contemplates  them  with 
angry  and  resentful  emotions  ;  and  often  owe  their  deemed 
magnitude  more  to  the  brooding  and  moody  contempla- 
tion, than  to  their  own  nature;  so  that  the  judgment, 
misled  and  deceived,  is  more  prepared  to  be  deceived 
and  misled  again.  At  the  same  time,  the  feelings  of  a 
heart  that  Avill  not  forgive,  become  more  and  more  fixed 
not  only,  but  prepare  the  heart  for  other  feelings,  which 
resemble  resentment  and  suspicion.  Jealousy  and  petu- 
lance become  natural  and  easy.  Indeed,  there  are  few 
things  which  tend  more  to  the  formation  of  an  undesir- 
able character  all  around,  than  the  indulgence  of  an  un- 
forgiving disposition.     Hence, 

3.  Such  a  disposition  is  a  constant  source  of  personal 
unhappiness.  It  trains  one  to  constant  uneasiness.  It 
magnifies  offenses,  and  puts  out  peace  of  mind,  as  it 
broods  over  them.  It  creates  a  general  inclination  to 
think  worse  of  human  nature  than  is  just,  and  prepares 
its  possessor  to  expect  injury  or  offense  every  where. 
And,  consequently,  the  man  who  can  not  forgive  be- 
comes unfit,  in  fact,  for  the  common  scenes  and  relations 
of  a  society  in  which  offenses  must  coine,  and  unfit  in 
disposition  to  find  enjoyment  therein.  He  can  find  little 
felicity  where  he  finds  so  much  to  resent,  and  while  he 
treasures  up  every  offense  to  brood  over  as  if  he  were 
surrounded  with  foes.  A  man  far  from  a  forgiving 
temper  must  be,  in  a  world  like  this,  far  from  such  per- 


868  FOIIGTYEXESS. 

sonal  felicities  as  lie  needs,  and  OTight  to  find,  amid  tlie 
intercourse  of  life. 

4.  It  is  equally  unhappy  with  him  in  respect  to  his 
adding  any  thing  to  the  common  stock  of  enjoyment.  He 
can  add  little.  Man  here  is  so  imperfect,  errors  are  so 
common,  and  misunderstandings  so  unavoidable,  that, 
for  the  sake  of  all  that  species  of  felicity  which  springs 
from  the  exercise  of  the  social  affections,  and  is  enhanced 
by  the  confidence,  and  endearments,  and  intercourse  of 
social  life,  there  is  a  necessity  for  bearing  some  injuries 
not  only  with  patience,  but  with  humility  and  kindness. 
Out  of  an  unforgiving  temper  spring  contentions,  bitter- 
ness, and  wrath,  divisions,  strifes,  quarrels,  and  war. 
The  peace  of  neighborhoods  is  broken  up,  kindly  rela- 
tions are  exchanged  for  hostile  ones,  and  human  society 
loses  much  of  its  designed  power  of  communicating  an 
additional  felicity  to  its  members.  In  all  ordinary  civil- 
ized life,  every  individual  is  and  must  be  indebted  to 
society  for  no  small  part  of  the  happiness  he  enjoys. 
Society  is  necessary  to  him.  He  can  not  be  happy  with- 
out it,  except  by  being  more  than  half  ^^/imanned.  In 
the  exercises  of  the  social  aflPections,  in  loving  and  esteem- 
ing others,  and  in  being  loved  and  esteemed  by  them  in 
return,  and  in  the  mutual  offices  of  kindness,  confidence, 
and  good-will,  is  to  be  found  one  of  the  great  sources  of 
human  enjoyment.  A  being  who  receives  so  much  from 
society  may  well  afford  to  bear  something  from  it  in  re- 
turn. He  must  form  a  very  strange  exception,  indeed, 
if  his  fellows,  on  the  whole,  do  not  increase  his  enjoy- 
ments more  than  they  diminish  them ;  and  probably  a 
strange  exception  if  they  do  not  contribute  to  his  felicity 
as  much  as  he  contributes  to  the  common  stock.  To 
that  he  may  contribute  by  a  forgiving  temper,  if  by  no- 


FORGIVENESS.  369 

thing  else — every  living  man  may.  And  without  some- 
thing of  such  a  temper,  he  can  not  avoid  diminishing 
often  and  much  the  common  happiness  of  life  around 
him. 

5.  Ko  man  can  live  in  a  world  like  this  without  being 
himself  sometimes  an  offender.  Wittingly  or  unwittingly, 
he  will  offend.  In  many  tilings  ive  offend  all.  The  man 
does  not  live  who  does  not  himself  need  forgiveness  from 
his  fellows.  If  his  injustice  has  not  offended,  his  pride 
may  have  done  it;  his  coldness,  his  indifference,  his 
haughtiness,  his  vanity,  his  lack  of  pity  or  sympathy, 
his  distance  and  reserve,  may  have  done  it.  And  the 
wound  he  has  in  some  such  way  given,  may  be  worse 
than  if  he  had  injured  the  property  or  violated  the  ex- 
ternal rights  of  his  fellow.  It  may  sink  deeper  into  the 
heart,  and  lie  among  those  tender  and  cherished  feelings 
whose  bleeding  is  most  easy  and  most  severe.  And  how 
inconsistent  and  inconsiderate  it  must  be  for  one  who 
may  have  offended  so  much  and  so  deeply,  and  Avho 
must  have  offended  sometimes  not  a  little,  to  cherish 
offenses  instead  of  forgetting  them  !  Himself  an  offender 
and  needing  to  be  forgiven,  how  unfit  it  is  that  he  should 
refuse  to  extend  to  others  the  very  forgiveness  he  him- 
self needs !  To  set  himself  up  as  superior  to  any  such 
necessity,  and,  by  indifference  to  the  feelings  of  his  fel- 
lows, or  by  reliance  of  heart  upon  his  other  resources  of  ^ 
possession,  power,  or  name,  to  be  led  to  say  or  feel  that 
he  does  not  care  for  their  forgiveness,  is  itself  an  offense ; 
it  is  an  insult  and  an  injury  of  the  worst  kind.  He  ought 
to  care.  Duty,  manliness,  humanity,  demands  it  of  him. 
He  would  care  if  he  were  not  at  once  supremely  selfish 
and  supremely  vain  ;  yea,  and  supremely  mean. 

If  men  were  duly  sensible  of  their  own  errors  and 
16* 


370  FOEGIVENESS. 

offenses,  they  would  find  strong  reason  to  extend  for- 
giveness to  the  offenses  of  others.     But, 

6.  The  duty  of  forgiveness  has  an  enforcement  that 
draws  deeper  still.  We  are  offenders  against  God. 
As  such  we  are  indebted  for  all  that  we  enjoy  in 
time,  and  all  that  we  can  hope  for  in  eternity,  to 
the  forgiving  disposition  of  that  Infinite  Being  whom 
we  have  all  offended.  Had  he  no  disposition  to 
forgive,  the  pall  of  an  eternal  midnight  of  despair  had 
already  settled  down  upon  our  prospects  I  He  bears 
with  us  now,  to  furnish  us  with  a  space  for  repentance, 
because  he  is  infinitely  ready  to  forgive  the  very  last  of 
our  offenses.  If  we  are  forgiven,  and  ever  enter  into 
heaven  in  peace  with  God,  we  shall  owe  it  all  to  the 
sovereign  mercy  of  his  forgiving  disposition.  We  have 
offended  God  more  and  oftener  than  our  bitterest  foe 
can  have  offended  us.  The  offense  against  ourselves  is 
from  an  equal,  a  fellow,  a  common  mortal  like  our- 
selves ;  while  our  own  offense,  being  against  God,  rises 
immeasurably  higher.  And  shall  that  very  offender 
who,  this  moment,  is  out  of  hell  by  forbearance,  and 
who  expects  heaven  eternally  only  as  a  gracious  boon 
to  an  offender,  and  who  could  not  even  have  had  the 
offer  of  pardon  had  not  the  kindness  that  seeks  to  save 
him  gone  infinitely  beyond  all  that  he  is  required  to  do 
toward  an  offender,  and  taken  upon  itself  the  burden  of 
his  guilt,  and,  bearing  it  upon  the  accursed  tree,  brought 
out  from  dying  lips  the  prayer.  Father^  forgive  them,  for 
they  know  not  what  they  do — shall  that  very  offender 
(himself  out  of  the  pit,  and  hoping  for  heaven  on  such 
grounds)  turn  round  to  his  offending  fellow  with  ven- 
geance or  angry  resentment  in  his  heart?  Hide,  hide 
thyself  in  the  dust,  thou  shameless  mortal!     Cover  thy- 


FOEGIVENESS.  371 

self  with  the  pall  of  an  eternal  midnight !  Aim  to  be 
forgotten  and  unknown  for  ever,  if,  such  a  debtor  to  for- 
giveness yourself,  you  can  not  forgive  an  offending  fel- 
low !  Surely  there  is  no  man  who  fitly  feels  what  a  sin- 
ner he  is,  what  a  miserable  offender,  who  can  find  it  in 
his  heart  to  deal  hardly  or  feel  hardly  toward  an  offend- 
ing fellow.  Your  fellow,  indeed,  may  owe  you  much  of 
apology  or  of  restitution  ;  but  you  owe  there  ten  thousand 
talents,  and  you  have  nothing  to  pay !  Gone,  gone  for 
ever  would  be  your  last  hope,  if  Grod  should  feel  toward 
you  the  unforgiving  temper  which  you  exercise  toward 
your  unpardoned  fellow ! 

7.  "We  have  already  said  that  a  resentment  which 
aims  at  self-protection,  and  which  manifests  an  abhor- 
rence of  crime,  is  due  to  the  cause  of  virtue  itself  But 
in  defending  our  rights,  the  spirit  of  forgiveness  must  be 
mingled  with  such  a  resentment,  to  temper  and  control 
it.  If  it  is  not,  if  we  go  heyond  this,  and  would  take 
vengeance  into  our  own  hands,  or,  by  hostile,  cold,  and 
indifferent  feeling  toward  an  offender,  would  punish 
him — ^let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  we  are  then  coming 
very  near  to  an  interference  with  the  high  prerogatives 
of  God.  Vengeance  is  mine ;  I  will  repay,  saith  the  Lord. 
The  injustice  which  has  offended  us  has  offended  him 
more ;  and  till  we  can  be  certain  that  we  know  what  it 
deserves,  it  were  better  to  leave  the  retribution  to  Him 
who  can  not  err.  And  when  we  remember  that  the 
offender  is  in  his  hands — that  he  can  not  escape — that  he 
must  repent  and  become  all  we  could  ask  of  him,  or  fall 
under  the  final  retribution  of  God,  how  can  we  bear  to 
pursue  such  a  periled  mortal  with  a  single  emotion  of 
animosity  ?  Could  we  bear  to  make  keener  the  sword 
of  the  executioner  ?     Could  we  bear  to  mingle  our  taunts 


872  FORGIVENESS. 

with,  the  groans  of  a  convict  dying  in  the  hands  of  human 
justice?  Certainly  nature  feels  that  that  justice  is 
enough ;  and  much  more  may  Ave  leave  an  offender  to 
his  God  and  our  God.  Our  unforgiving  resentment 
amounts  just  about  to  a  declaration  that  we  can  not  trust 
God  to  jDrotect  us  or  punish  him.  Let  us  beware  lest 
our  anger  toward  our  fellow  becomes  impudence  toward 
God.  And  let  us  be  ashamed  and  confounded  if,  instead 
of  trusting  God  to  punish  according  to  his  holy  wisdom, 
we  want  the  pleasure  of  doing  it  ourselves,  to  gratify 
our  heart ! 

8.  It  may  not  be  altogether  an  avoidable  result  of  sin, 
but  it  is  a  fact  that  our  present  felicities  and  interests 
often  assume  an  importance  that  does  not  belong  to  them. 
This  is  especially  the  case  with  the  whole  generation  of 
unbelievers.  It  would  contribute  much  toward  a  readi- 
ness to  forgive,  if  we  were  to  be  duly  sensible  how  small 
are  the  injuries  (after  all)  of  the  most  careless  or  hostile 
offender.  Our  anger  and  resentment  would  guard  only 
very  trivial  interests — mere  trifles — the  bursting  bubbles 
of  a  speeding  moment!  The  offender  whom  we  will 
not  forgive  has  not  touched  one  of  our  dearest  interests. 
He  has  injured  us  only  in  minor  matters.  No  man 
thinks  of  being  offended  with  his  fellow  because  that 
fellow  has  injured  his  piety,  or  has  made  it  more  difl&cult 
for  him  to  walk  with  God.  No  man  thinks  his  eternal 
interests  have  been  injured,  or  allows  his  unforgiving 
feelings  to  burn  here  on  account  of  injury  to  meet  him 
beyond  the  tomb.  Anger  and  animosity  sink  down 
together  into  the  peaceful  bosom  of  the  grave.  And 
hence,  in  that  honest  hour  when  a  man  is  taking  the  last 
look  of  all  things  earthly,  and  earth  has  put  on,  in  the 
sight  of  his  dying  eyes,  its  true  aspect,  he  finds  con- 


FOEGIVENESS.  873 

straint  to  forgiveness,  whicli  he  never  found  before. 
His  enemy,  whom  he  leaves  behind  him,  has  not  touched 
one  of  the  interests  that  are  now  before  him :  he  has  not 
made  the  judgment  more  terrible,  or  God  less  forgiving, 
or  heaven  less  sweet  and  holy.  If  men  would  let  the 
just  estimates  of  that  honest  hour  come  back  now  upon 
the  interests  and  sentiments  of  life,  they  would  be  more 
ready  to  forgive.  They  would  see  that  their  offender 
has  offended  only  in  trifles — the  veriest  trifles  of  a  van- 
ishing moment  and  a  passing  world.  Oat  beyond  it,  on 
the  wide  bosom  of  eternity,  his  offense  has  not  touched 
an  item.  God  is  just  as  good — heaven  just  as  happy, 
and  its  songs  of  eternal  melody  roll  on  just  as  sweetly. 
Oh  !  how  inconsistent  and  uncalled  for  is  an  unforgiving 
disposition,  since  the  offense  of  the  offender  has  done  so 
little  harm  !  Harm  to  us,  indeed,  it  may  be,  if  we  will 
not  forgive  him ;  but  nothing,  if  we  will.  Forgive  and  ye 
shall  he  forgiven, 

9.  One  thing  more :  for  the  littleness  of  the  offender 
should  stand  side  by  side  with  the  interests  his  offense 
has  affected.  This  creature,  whom  we  hesitate  to  forgive, 
is  only  a  frail,  mortal  man.  His  face  is  set  toward  the 
tomb,  and  every  step  he  takes  in  this  wilderness- world 
brings  him  nearer  to  its  deep  and  lasting  silence.  As  he 
travels  on,  few  joys  meet  him,  and  those  that  do  only 
smile  and  sparkle  for  a  little  moment,  and  then  are  ex- 
tinguished for  ever!  He  has  many  woes  and  many 
burdens  to  bear ;  his  heart  will  often  bleed,  and  grief- 
tears  often  course  down  his  blistered  cheeks !  Nowhere 
can  he  lay  down  his  burden,  till  he  lays  it  at  the  grave's 
mouth  I  You  shall  see  him  descend  into  it !  The  dust 
shall  be  piled  upon  him — the  cold  sod  shall  press  upon 
his  now  stilled  bosom  !     There  he  lies,  and  you  stand  by 


874  FORGIVENESS. 

and  look  upon  tlie  spot !  Ah !  are  you  not  ashamed — 
deeply  ashamed,  and  more  deeply  sorry  that,  in  his  life, 
your  feelings  of  hostility  pursued  him  for  some  little 
offense,  which,  perhaps,  he  never  intended ;  or  even  for 
some  great  one  which  he  did?  Can  you  avoid  being 
sad,  that  your  hostile  resentment  ever  burned  for  a  mo- 
ment against  a  creature  of  such  littleness,  such  griefs, 
and  such  an  end  ?  and  that  you  let  him  go  down  into 
the  land  of  silence,  unsoothed  with  a  kind  word,  and 
unsolaced  by  your  forgiveness?  You  are  yourself  as 
little  and  as  mortal  as  he ;  you  shall  soon  sleep  beside 
him — ^your  head  as  low,  and  the  turf  as  unbroken  and 
green  that  covers  you  !  Is  it  not  fit  that  you  should /?r- 
give  one  another,  if  any  man  have  a  quarrel  against  any^ 
even  as  you  hope  that  Christ  will  forgive  you  ? 


(sacramental.) 

oil,  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God ! 
How  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways  past  finding  out. — 
EoMANS,  xi.  33. 

ITTE  blend  together,  to-day,  what  may  well  confound 
'*  an  infidel,  and  what  may  well  comfort  a  Chris- 
tian. If  Christianity  is  true,  and  founded  on  credible 
evidences,  or  even  if  its  direct  evidences  are  not  deemed 
satisfactory,  but  if  its  nature  and  all  its  procedure  are 
seen  to  harmonize  with  the  severest  reason  and  all  the 
high  attributes  of  God,  an  infidel  may  well  be  filled  with 
confusion.  And  if  Christianity  is  true — and  the  more 
profoundly  a  believer  contemplates  it,  the  more  he  finds 
all  its  nature  and  all  •  its  proceedings  to  grow  in  wonder 
and  adorable  magnificence  upon  him — such  a  believer, 
seeing  his  religion  to  harmonize  with  God,  may  well  be 
comforted.  Christianity  is  a  wonderful  system  ;  it  is  full 
of  wonders.  It  is  an  extensive  and  connected  system,  one 
truth  linked  with  another  in  the  manner  of  the  severest 
reason.  And  if,  amid  the  logic  of  its  connections,  or 
amid  the  high  wonders  of  its  revelations,  an  infidel  can 
discover  no  flaw  and  no  failure,  his  infidelity  may  well 
blush  to  maintain  that  men — mere  men — men  like  the 
poor  prophets  of  Judea  and  the  poor  fishermen  of  Gali- 
lee, have  coined  a  system  pure  beyond  comparison,  and 


876         THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION. 


sublime  beyond  conception.  Mere  wonder  in  an  idea  is 
no  proof  of  its  trutb,  indeed ;  but  when  a  believer  finds, 
as  he  contemplates  Christianity,  that  its  wonders  all 
assort  with  God,  and  give  him  a  more  majestic  idea  of 
God,  that  its  wonders  all  lie  just  where  Eeason  wants 
them  to  lie,  and  are,  therefore,  just  as  light  as  they  are 
magnificent — that  its  very  darknesses  are  the  very 
brightest  of  its  light — ^he  will  not  be  an  unreasonable 
man,  if  he  shall  allow  his  soul  to  rejoice  and  exult,  just 
when  he  most  wonders  and  adores. 

The  text  is  an  expression  of  wonder  and  amazement : 
OA,  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge 
of  OodI  How  unsearchable  are  his  judgments,  and  his  ways 
past  finding  out.  What  excited  this  wonder  was  the  con- 
templation of  the  sovereign  mercy  of  God  in  the  salva- 
tion of  sinners.  The  Apostle  had  discussed  the  whole 
subject  of  redemption.  He  had  explained  the  atonement 
made  for  sinners  by  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  and  when, 
in  the  application  of  that  redemption,  he  comes  to  a  sov- 
ereignty as  adorable  as  he  had  found  in  the  provision  of 
it,  he  has  no  words  to  explain  and  unfold  any  longer ; 
he  can  only  pause,  and  wonder,  and  adore :  Oh,  the  depth, 
the  depth  I  Amazement  takes  the  place  of  explanation  ; 
he  has  reached  the  end  of  reasoning  and  stops  to  wonder. 
"We  propose, 

I.  To  show  that  this  merciful  and  sovereign  salvation 
for  sinners  is  truly  a  wonderful  salvation  ;  that  while  it 
neither  contradicts,  nor  utterly  confounds  human  reason, 
it  goes  entirely  beyond  it,  and  thus  becomes  a  matter  of 
adorable  wonder,  such  that  the  more  deeply  we  study  it, 
the  more  will  our  amazement  grow  upon  us. 

II.  To  show  that  this  wonderful  character  of  Chris- 
tianity, while  it  exalts  God,  perfectly  assorts  with  the 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION.         877 

severest  reason,  and  ouglit  to  induce  a  reasonable  man 
to  embrace  it. 

I.  Christianity  is  a  system  of  wonders.  No  wise  man 
can  contemplate  it  far  without  exclaiming,  Oh^  the  depth 
of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God. 

We  mention  to  you  four  different  considerations,  taken 
from  the  election  of  God,  the  nature  of  Christ,  his  suffer- 
ings, and  his  satisfaction  for  sinners. 

1.  The  very  proposal  of  salvation  for  sinners  is  a  mat- 
ter of  wonder.  We  can  not,  indeed,  reason  very  well 
about  God,  and  we  are  never  safe  in  our  reasonings  a 
single  step  we  attempt  to  take  beyond  where  the  light  of 
Eevelation  shines  upon  our  path.  But  after  all  that  Di- 
vine Kevelation  has  taught  us,  there  is  much  ground  for 
amazement  in  the  fact  that  God  should  ever  have  con- 
ceived the  idea  of  saving  a  sinner.  His  election  was  a 
wonder.  He  was  not  obliged  to  save  him.  His  charac- 
ter and  judgment  would  have  for  ever  appeared  spotless 
and  perfect,  if  he  had  suffered  that  holy  law,  whose 
penalty  is  everlasting  death,  to  take  its  dreadful  course 
upon  him.  Sinners  had  perished  under  the  law.  The 
fallen  angels  had  become  devils,  and  their  being  reserved  in 
chains  of  darkness  unto  the  judgment  of  that  great  day,  had 
brought  no  dishonor  upon  God.  The  law,  which  would 
have  sent  sinners  of  the  earth  to  be  their  companions  in 
torment,  was  a  just  law,  a  holy  law,  a  good  law ;  it  was 
necessary ;  it  stood,  and  still  stands,  as  the  friend  of  the 
good,  as  a  terror  to  deter  from  evil,  as  the  guardian  for 
all  the  felicity  there  is  in  the  universe  (unless  the  felicity 
of  God  himself  forms  an  exception) ;  and  if  the  death- 
penalty  of  the  law,  the  soul  that  sinneth  it  shall  die,  had 
been  carried  into  execution,  and  every  sinner  upon  the 


878  THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION. 

earth  had  become  its  eternal  victim,  not  only  the  justice, 
but  even  the  goodness  of  God  would  have  been  mani- 
fested in  the  judicial  transaction ;  it  would  have  dem- 
onstrated to  the  beholding  universe,  that  the  good 
God  would  not  suffer  sinners  to  be  at  large  to  break 
in  upon  the  felicity  of  the  good  by  their  unrighteous- 
ness, and  to  spread  contamination  and  destruction 
around  them.  Why  then  should  God  propose  to  save 
sinners?  Why  did  he  not  annihilate  them?  He  could 
have  filled  their  vacated  places  in  an  instant  with  bet- 
ter beings,  and  held  them,  at  his  will,  holy  and  un- 
stained for  ever.  Moreover,  sin  is  an  infinite  offense 
against  him.  It  kindles  his  anger,  and  ought  to  kindle 
it.  Eeason  could  have  but  little  respect  for  God,  if  he 
should  have  no  displeasure  against  the  guilty.  And 
more  still,  there  is  a  most  noticeable  singularity  in  this 
salvation.  God  does  not  appear  thus  on  any  other  field 
of  his  own  august  wonders:  when  sin  broke  out  in 
heaven,  he  did  not  appear  so  ;  he  hurled  the  thunderbolt 
of  a  just  vengeance.  If,  -on  the  earth,  any  creature 
goes  against  the  established  laws  of  the  natural  world, 
God  does  not  interpose  by  any  new  act,  or  any  new 
agency,  to  prevent  the  misery  or  disaster  of  the  violation. 
Why,  then,  save  sinners  ?  What  ground  for  it  could  the 
severest  reasoning  ever  discover  ?  No  man  can  answer. 
All  we  can  say  is,  Oh,  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the 
wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God. 

Certainly  here  is  ground  for  wonder  and  amazement. 
God  appears,  in  this  salvation,  not  only  to  have  gone  be- 
yond all  human  reason,  but  beyond  himself  He  never 
did  any  thing  else  like  it. 

2.  Another  matter  of  wonder  lies  in  the  incarnation  of 
Christ.      His  birth  was  miraculous  not  only,  but  a  sort 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION.         379 

of  miracle  beyond  any  other  miracle  of  God.  His  mother 
was  a  poor  virgin.  That  which  was  conceived  in  her 
was  by  the  Holy  Ghost.  Deity  took  npon  himself  the 
form  and  nature  of  humanity.  He  who  was  in  the  hegin- 
ning  luith  God  and  was  Ood^  loho  thought  it  not  robbery  to  be 
equal  with  God,  took  upon  him  the  form  of  a  servant,  and 
being  found  in  fashion  as  a  man,  he  humbled  himself  and 
became  subject  to  all  the  sinless  degradation  of  human 
nature.  This  fact  stands  alone  in  the  universe — in  the 
history  of  all  existence,  created  or  uncreated.  Jesus 
Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  became  man.  He  was  one  per- 
son. That  one  person  embraced  in  his  high  and  mys- 
terious personage,  at  once  all  the  august  attributes  of 
Deity,  and  all  the  littleness,  and  limitations,  and  capabili- 
ties of  pain  and  death,  which,  belong  to  the  humblest  of 
mankind.  Among  all  God's  wonders,  you  can  find  no 
analogy  far  the  person  of  Christ.  Eeason,  all  human 
reason  stands  abashed  and  staggered  when  it  attempts 
even  the  conception  of  a  person,,  one  person,  the  same 
person,  uniting  in  himself  the  extremes  of  glory  and  deg- 
radation— one  person,  who  could  make  the  winds  and 
the  sea  obey  him,  the  dead  obey  him,  devils  obey  him, 
and  at  the  same  time  be  harassed  and  tormented  with  the 
temptations  of  Satan  ;  be  weary  and  hungry,  be  pained 
and  weep,  just  as  any  poor  mortal  man.  Mysterious 
Being !  peculiar,  unlike  any  other,  having  no  analogy  in 
heaven  or  earth.  OA,  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the 
wisdom  and  knowledge  of  God. 

3.  Our  ordinary  idea  of  the  proceedings  of  justice  is 
confounded,  by  the  sufferings  of  Jesus  Christ.  We  are 
accustomed,  in  our  contemplation,  to  connect  together  th* 
ideas  of  sin  and  suffering.  At  least  we  are  wont  to  con- 
sider that  an  innocent  and  sinless  being — one  who  has 


880         THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION". 

given  no  offense,  broken  no  law,  come  short  in  no  duty, 
cannot  justly  be  treated  as  a  malefactor.  Our  reason 
seems  to  decide  in  a  moment,  that  true  justice  can  never 
allow  such  a  being  to  be  miserable,  much  less  make  him 
a  direct  subject  and  victim  of  penal  inflictions.  Yet, 
here  stood  the  sinless  Son  of  God.  He  had  not  where  to 
lay  his  head.  He  was  a  man  of  sorroivs  and  acquainted 
with  grief.  Men  sneered  at  him,  railed  at  him,  scourged 
him  as  a  culprit,  hung  him  up  with  the  wicked,  and 
mocked  at  the  agonies  of  his  death.  What  has  become 
of  God's  justice  ?  how  could  it  permit  all  this  ? — men  and 
devils  let  loose  upon  an  innocent  and  spotless  being  ?  And 
more  than  all,  if  there  is  one  particle  of  righteousness  in 
God  the  Father,  how  could  he  himself,  always  delighting 
in  a  Son  who  always  obeyed  him,  abandon  him  at  the 
very  moment  of  death,  and  force  from  dying  lips  the 
agonizing  complaint.  My  Ood^  my  God^  why  hast  thou 
forsaken  me  ?  No  human  reason  can  answer  these  ques- 
tions. Eeason  must  stand  aghast  and  exclaim,  Oh,  the 
depth  ! 

4.  If  possible,  amazement  will  rise  still  higher,  when 
this  suffering  transaction  is  explained,  even  by  the  Bible 
itself.  He  suffered  the  just  for  the  unjust^  that  he  might 
bring  us  to  Ood.  And  how  could  penal  justice  be  satis- 
fied or  honored  by  the  penal  sufferings  of  an  innocent 
One  ?  If  sin  had  been  merely  a  commercial  delinquency, 
a  debt,  so  much  due,  and  the  debtor  could  not  pay  it — 
and  if  the  law  had  been  a  mere  heartless  treasury,  so 
much  wanted  and  not  caring  where  it  came  from,  it 
not  would  be  so  much  of  a  wonder  that  a  friend  should  be 
allowed  to  step  in,  and,  from  the  abundance  of  his  treas- 
ures, make  up  the  deficiency  of  the  delinquent.  But 
here  is  a  delinquency  that  treasures  can  not  meet.     There 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATIOX.         381 

is  no  analogy  betwixt  the  nature  of  debt  and  the  nature 
of  sin.  Sin  is  not  a  mere  borrower  who  has  failed  to 
pay.  God  is  not  a  mere  lender,  claiming  back  his  own 
that  he  has  lent.  If  it  were  so,  the  pay  might  as  well 
come  from  another.  And  when  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ 
suffers  to  satisfy  Divine  justice  for  sinners,  the  question 
is  propounded,  How  his  suffering  could  be  any  satisfac- 
tion at  all  to  such  a  justice  ;  or  how  it  could  consist  with 
the  very  nature  of  such  a  justice  to  accept  it  in  the  sin- 
ner's stead ;  or  how  a  just  God  could  retain  his  character 
of  justice,  and  at  the  same  time  exclaim,  Awake^  0  sword, 
against  the  shepherd  and  against  the  man  that  is  my  fellow^ 
and  then  bathe  the  sword  of  his  justice  in  the  blood  of 
his  spotless  Son  ?  The  question  confounds  all  human  rea- 
son— no  man  can  answer  it — the  only  response  is  wonder 
and  amazement.  Oh,  the  depth!  the  depth!  We  can 
believe,  and  adore,  and  wonder,  but  all  the  world  can  not 
explain  how  it  can  be  a  just  thing  that  the  sufferings  of 
Christ  should  be  accepted  as  a  propitiation  for  our  sins. 
God  has  taught  us  the  fact,  and  hence  we  believe  it.  The 
fact  is  a  wonder. 

These  are  only  examples.  Things  of  the  same  mar- 
velous nature  run  all  through  the  history  of  the  system 
of  Redemption.  The  more  we  study  it,  the  more  we  see 
of  them.  The  more  we  study  it  and  understand  it  too, 
the  more  it  rises  upon  us,  not  only  in  the  wonders  of  its 
magnificence,  but  in  the  wonders  of  its  mysteries.  This 
is  one  of  the  things  which  confound  infidelity.  Infidel- 
ity can  not  grasp  the  matter.  Infidelity  attempts  to  pro- 
ceed on  the  ground  of  reasoning,  but  Christianity,  though 
it  presents  all  credible  proofs  of  its  own  truth,  so  that  a 
just  reasoner  can  not  reject  it,  and  so  as  to  leave,  there- 
fore, every  unbeliever  without   excuse;  yet,  Christianity 


882         THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION. 

soon  plunges  into  those  deep  things  of  God,  where  Kea- 
son  grows  weak,  and  her  light  dim,  and  her  mere  disciple 
must  grope  and  stagger  in  darkness.  Infidelity  is  con- 
founded by  these  depths.  She  can  not  fathom  them. 
She  can  not  weave  any  argument  to  disprove  them,  and 
therefore  she  is  confounded  again.  So  far  as  she  can 
bring  any  of  the  principles  of  a  just  reasoning  to  apply 
to  the  things  of  our  faith,  just  so  far  she  finds  Christian- 
ity to  be  just  what  reason  wants  her  to  be,  and,  therefore, 
she  is  again  confounded.  Infidelity  is  proud  ;  as  proud 
as  she  is  foolish.  She  puts  confidence  in  the  power  of 
her  reason,  but  when  she  attempts  to  apply  her  principles 
to  the  economy  of  salvation,  the  nature  of  that  economy 
stretches  off  into  measureless  distances  beyond  them,  and 
therefore  she  is  confounded  again. 

But  what  confounds  an  infidel  comforts  a  Christian. 

11.  As  the  second  part  of  this  sermon,  we  propose  to 
show  that  those  deep  and  unfathomable  wonders  of  which 
our  religion  is  so  full,  are  reasons  for  our  accepting  it  and 
being  comforted  by  it.  We  name  to  you  but  three  argu- 
ments to  prove  this. 

1.  These  deep  things  (some  of  which  we  have  men- 
tioned) constitute  a  feature  of  our  religion  which  com- 
ports with  our  experience  on  all  other  subjects. 

The  facts  which  we  have  mentioned  about  atonement, 
incarnation,  God's  plan  of  mercy,  the  innocent  sufiering 
in  the  room  of  the  guilty,  and  so  on,  are  all  plainly  re- 
veakd  facts.  There  is  no  darkness  or  depth  in  them. 
The  depth  and  darkness  meet  us  only  as  we  proceed  to' 
philosophize  and  reason  upon  the  facts,  and  ask  such 
questions  as  a  man  can  be  a  very  good  Christian  without 
asking  or  hearing  answered.     Our  reasonings  and  ex- 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION.         383 

planations  lead  us  into  the  deep  things  of  God,  where  we 
can  not  reason  farther,  and  can  not  answer  a  captions 
man's  inquiries. 

Kow,  we  maintain  that  this  experience  precisely 
assorts  with  our  experience  upon  other  fields  of  knowl- 
edge and  igr;orance.  The  principle  is  this  :  the  further 
we  proceed  in  our  knowledge  of  the  things  of  God,  the 
more  deep  and  wonderful  they  become.  The  astronomer 
finds  it  so,  and,  standing  in  his  contemplation  upon  the 
very  last  star  his  glass  has  reached,  he  can  not  have  an 
item  of  certainty  that  there  is  not  more  beyond  him, 
than  all  he  has  traveled  over.  His  wonder  grew  as  he 
passed  the  moon,  the  sud,  the  planets,  and  trod  along 
the  milky  way ;  and  now,  as  he  casts  his  keen  eye  out 
upon  the  illimitable  space  beyond  him,  God  is  beyond 
him,  his  works  are  beyond  him,  his  system  stretches  off 
and  off  further,  and  he  is  compelled  to  feel  that  he  has 
not  yet  passed  the  porch  of  the  temple  of  God.  All  he 
can  do  is  to  wonder ;  all  he  can  say  is.  Oh  the  depth^  the 
depth  I 

In  the  opposite  direction  of  experience,  it  is  the  same 
thing.  In  the  ever-descending  field  of  a  microscopic 
study,  the  philosopher  finds  God  growing  more  and  more 
marvelous  as  he  descends.  Matter  teems  with  life,  with 
new  forms  of  life.  Millions  of  living  beings  inhabit  a  single 
drop  of  the  water,  and  sport  themselves  in  all  the  vivacity 
of  life  and  enjoyment,  with  a  sprightliness,  a  beauty  of 
form,  and  a  perfection  of  muscular  formation  and  move- 
ment, not  surpassed  by  any  thing  he  ever  beheld  before. 
And  where  that  descending  life  shall  stop,  how  minute 
shall  be  the  utmost  minuteness  of  it,  in  what  conceivable 
littleness  he  shall  find  the  least  creature  that  God  ever 
made,  is  something  on  which  he  dare  not  venture  even  a 


384         THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION". 

conjecture.  All  lie  can  do  is  to  wonder ;  all  lie  can  say 
is,  Oh  the  depths  the  depth  ! 

The  providences  of  God  afford  another  example. 
They  are  full  of  wonders.  What  a  marvel  is  all  human 
history !  How  dark  the  track  of  the  centuries  which 
swept  over  the  world !  They  are  digging  up  Nineveh  ! 
They  are  reading  the  history  of  Sennacherib !  An  earth- 
quake is  a  wonder  !  A  pestilence  is  a  wonder  I  What 
does  God  mean  ?  Who  can  explain  him  ?  Widows  and 
orphans  weep  upon  his  earth,  fears  fill  it,  graves  dis- 
figure its  broken  surface,  and  the  lean  figure  of  Famine 
stalks  over  it  and  looks  up  to  heaven,  and  then  sinks 
down  and  dies  in  despair.  And  am  I  to  stand  upon  the 
cursed  surface  of  such  an  earth,  and^  amid  graves  and 
coffins  and  bones,  amid  bursting  hearts  and  weaving 
shrouds  and  my  dying  kindred,  must  I  look  up  into 
heaven  and  say.  The  lohole  earth  is  full  of  the  goodness  of 
the  Lord  ?  How  can  I  say  it  ?  An  infidel  can  not !  I 
defy  his  tongue — he  can  not!  God  goes  beyond  our 
reason.  We  can  understand  him  a  little  way,  but  we 
soon  reach  our  limits  and  are  compelled  to  exchange 
understanding  for  admiration,  Oh  the  depth  of  the  riches 
both  of  the  luisdom  and  knowledge  of  God:  his  ways  are 
past  finding  outj  unsearchable  are  his  judgments  ! 

2.  There  are  many  things  of  importance,  but  they  are 
not  all  of  equal  value.  There  is  a  gradation  of  worth. 
The  Bible  acknowledges  and  employs  this  principle. 
Senseless  and  unorganized  matter  lies  below  the  organ- 
isms of  life.  Life  itself,  as  it  exists  in  brutes,  is  of  a 
lower  rank  than  when  it  exists  in  man.  The  mental 
kingdom,  while  superior  to  the  vegetable  and  animal 
kingdom,  is  inferior  to  the  moral.  There  is,  or  may  be 
and  ought  to  be,  a  dignity  and  felicity  in  moral  existence 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION.  386 

surpassing  any  other.  Even  God  himself  is  more 
glorious  by  being  a  boly  God,  tlian  by  being  an  al- 
mighty or  omniscient  God.  That  he  is  lova  is  some- 
thing more  than  that  he  is  light. 

Now,  we  are  very  limited  creatures,  and  therefore  we 
can  not  reasonably  expect  to  have  an  equal  understanding 
of  all  subjects ;  but'  Ave  must  expect  to  meet  with  the 
highest  wonders  in  the  highest  things  and  highest 
departments.  An  infidel  tells  us  he  meets  with  the 
most  wonders  in  Christianity.  Very  well.  So  he  does. 
For  that  reason  he  rejects  it,  and  for  that  reason  we 
glory  in  it.  For  that  reason  he  ought  to  glory  in  it  too. 
Consider  two  arguments  here,  one  taken  from  the  glory 
of  God,  and  the  other  from  the  value  of  the  soul. 

(1)  God  is  glorious  in  every  thing,  but  not  in  every 
thing  of  equal  glory.  The  glory  he  gains  from  his 
universe  is  various,  but  his  highest  glory  lies  in  his  sav- 
ing sinners.  It  does  not  lie  in  his  mere  holy  justice;  it 
does  not  lie  in  his  building  hell ;  it  does  not  lie  in  his 
creating  and  keeping  in  heaven  such  beings  as  holy 
angels  and  holy  cherubim  and  seraphim,  exalted  and 
mighty  and  happy  for  ever,  thrones  and  principalities 
and  powers.  The  angels  who  followed  Jesus  Christ  to 
earth  and  sung  his  natal  song  over  Bethlehem,  knew 
this  very  well :  Glory  to  God  in  the  highest^  because  07i 
earth  peace,  good  will  toivard  men. 

What  then  shall  we  say  ?  On  that  high  field  of  won- 
ders where  God  Almighty  is  more  glorious  than  any 
where  else,  shall  we  demand  of  him  nothing  to  assort 
with  the  magnitude  of  his  own  glory?  Shall  we  not 
expect  of  him  in  the  most  glorious  procedure  to  be 
more  amazing  and  wonderful  than  any  where  else  ? 
Shall   not  our  reason,  our  most  cautious  reason,  our 


386  THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION". 

severest  reason,  expect  to  find  more  deep  and  unfathom- 
able tilings  in  that  transaction  which  gives  him  his 
highest  gl©ry,  than  in  any  of  the  other  workings  of  his 
eternal  might  and  infinite  mind  ?  He  is  wonderful 
every  where,  adorable  every  where — but  must  be  most 
wonderful,  most  adorable,  where  he  is  most  glorious. 
He  extends  beyond  us  every  where,  but  must  extend 
most  beyond  us  just  where  he  is  most  glorious.  Reason, 
therefore,  sheer  reason,  common  sense,  ought  to  teach 
an}^  man  better  than  to  reject  Christianity,  because  of 
such  wonders  as  lie  in  the  person  of  Christ,  his  incarna- 
tion, his  sufferings  and  death,  and  thereby  a  rendering 
of  satisfaction  to  Divine  justice  for  sinners.  Reason 
approves  the  whole  when  we  cease  to  explain  and  under- 
stand, when  we  are  compelled  to  pause  and  adore.  Oh 
the  depth  ! 

(2)  Consider  the  soul.  It  is  immortal.  Perhaps  its 
capacities  will  expand  and  enlarge  for  ever.  Blest,  its 
felicity  may  yet  more  than  equal  the  joy  that  exists 
in  heaven ;  lost,  its  woes  may  yet  sink  it  to  a  wretched- 
ness that  has  never  been  equaled  in  hell.  It  is  to  be 
saved  or  lost.  But  it  is  a  guilty,  sinful  soul.  And  to 
save  it,  to  pluck  it  out  of  the  jaws  of  ruin,  to  pardon  its 
guilt,  to  still  the  anget  of  God,  to  satisfy  and  silence  the 
law,  and  save  such  an  immortal  and  precious  thing  from 
the  dreadful  doom  of  eternal  death,  shall  God  do  nothing 
more  than  he  would  do  for  a  beast  of  the  field  or  the 
fowls  of  the  air  ?  When  a  soul  is  periled — an  immortal 
soul — when  its  hell  is  dug,  the  flames  kindled,  and  fiends 
waiting  to  torment  it — shall  God  for  its  salvation  embark 
no  more  wisdom,  no  more  wonders,  and  manifest  no 
more  earnestness  than  he  does  about  the  petty  interests 
of  a  world  of  matter  and  beasts,  and  threescore  years  and 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION.  887 

ten?  Shall  God's  wisdom  and  might  and  earnestness 
in  managing  the  sun  and  moon  and  stars,  be  the  measure 
or  the  similitude  of  the  wisdom,  might  and  earnestness 
which  he  shall  embark  to  save  mj  periled  and  immortal 
soul  ?  God  forbid !  I  declare  to  you,  I  could  not  be- 
lieve God  was  in  earnest  to  save  me,  I  could  not  trust 
him,  I  could  not  credit  my  Bible,  if  I  did  not  find  in  it 
the  very  mysteries  and  wonders — those  surpassings  of 
reason  and  those  overleapings  of  analogy — which  an 
infidel  complains  of  An  infidel  ? — he  is  a  fool !  he  is 
no  reasoner !  he  thinks  of  a  soul  as  he  would  think  of  a 
beast  or  a  mountain  ;  he  thinks  of  sin  as  he  would  think 
of  a  trifle ;  he  thinks  of  God's  highest  glory  as  if  all  its 
wonders  must  come  as  much  within  his  comprehension 
as  a  problem  in  arithmetic !  God  forbid  that  I  should 
glory  save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christy  hy  lohom 
the  world  is  crucified  unto  me,  and  I  unto  the  world.  Our 
doctrines  contain  all  the  amazement  the  infidels  have 
ever  attributed  to  them.  This  is  their  glorj^  This  is  an 
evidence  of  their  truth.  This  is  a  perfect  demonstration 
of  their  appropriateness.  This  is  the  thing  aside  from 
which  no  truly  reasonable  man  would  ever  believe  them. 
Eeason  could  not  accept  a  religion  which  did  not  compel 
her  to  exclaim  in  adoring  wonder,  Oh  the  depth  of 
.     .     .     of  God. 

3.  We  have  not  time  to  expand  the  argument  which 
might  be  drawn  from  the  wants  of  our  nature — wants  of 
which  we  have  the  testimony  of  our  own  consciousness, 
to  more  or  less  extent.  Our  idea  is  this :  it  is  in  these 
deep  things  of  God,  and  these  only,  that  we  find  any 
appropriate  provision  for  our  deepest  and  most  urgent 
necessities.  Reason  can  not  hope  except  before  the 
amazing  depths  of  God's  wisdom  and  mercy.     As  sin- 


388  THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION. 

ners,  as  dying  sinners,  we  need  God  to  do  for  us  just  the 
wonders  lie  has  wrought.  Had  he  7iot  done  them,  we 
must  have  despaired.  It  appears  to  me  that  I  know,  just 
as  fully  and  clearly  as  I  know  any  thing,  that  I  need  to 
have  my  God  interpose  for  me,  and  do  for  me,  as  a  sin- 
ner hasting  to  the  bar  of  the  eternal  judgment,  such 
things  as  he  has  done  nowhere  else,  and  such  as  have  no 
resemblances  in  the  management  of  this  world. 

The  wonders  of  this  redemption,  the  great  facts  of  our 
religion,  all  assort  with  the  majesty  and  mercy  of  God, 
the  woes  of  time,  the  mysteries  of  the  world,  and  an 
eternity  to  come.  And  yet  some  of  you  in  this  house 
have  never  embraced  this  religion.  I  have  no  pleasure 
in  adverting  to  your  state.  It  is  with  inconceivable  pain 
that  I  behold  you,  year  after  year,  rejecting  a  religion 
which  would  save  you,  and  pursuing  a  course  which  must 
finally  land  you  in  everlasting  despair.  Do  you  not  see, 
do  you  not  fully  understand,  that  you  need  just  such  a 
Christ,  just  such  an  atonement,  just  such  an  infinite  inter- 
position of  God  as  the  Gospel  proclaims  ?  Ask  your  con- 
science, ask  your  cofiin — put  the  question  any  where  to 
your  own  soul,  your  fears,  your  world,  your  God,  or  your 
grave — whether  our  gospel-redemption  in  all  its  wonders 
is  not  precisely  appropriate  to  such  a  sinner  as  you — such 
a  mortal — such  an  immortal.  And  yet  what  do  you 
mean?  You  contemn  and  reject  God's  most  majestic 
and  most  appropriate  work  !  You  tread  under  foot  the 
blood  of  his  Son.  This  afternoon  j^ou  will  turn  your 
back  upon  the  table  as  an  unbeliever.  Oh,  sinners, 
pause!  Think!  You  are  doing  the  worst  work  you 
could  do.  Your  obstinacy  sets  at  naught  that  most 
wonderful  work  your  God  ever  accomplished !  If  you 
perish — ^if  you  will  perish — ^the  most  amazing  thing  in 


THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION.  389 

your  perdition — ^tlie  deepest  woe  of  your  hell  will  come 
up  just  in  this,  that  where  God  did  his  most  wonderful 
work  of  mingled  and  adorable  wisdom  and  mercy,  you 
committed  your  most  wonderful  sin,  and  plucked  down 
ruin  from  the  very  hand  of  infinite  grace!  Save  me 
from  that !  Save  me  from  spurning  the  depths  of  God. 
Grace  calls  you.  Listen  to  the  call.  Fly  to  Christ  while 
you  may,  and  you  shall  be  an  eternal  miracle  of  grace, 
an  eternal  trophy  of  an  interposing  God  !  Come^  for  all 
things  are  now  ready. 

The  wonderful  redemption  of  God's  people  ought  to 
wean  them  from  the  world.  At  his  table,  this  afternoon, 
I  hope  they  will  humbly  and  adoringly  remember  where 
he  has  done  the  most  for  them,  and  what  they  ought 
most  to  prize.  Little  as  the  world  must  be  to  you,  you 
have  enough  of  heaven.  Let  your  hearts  assort  with  the 
grace  that  secures  it  to  jon.  Where  God  is  deepest, 
adore  him  most,  love  him  most,  praise  him  most,  and  see 
that  you  labor  most  for  that  world  for  which  he  has 
done  the  most  for  you. 

It  may  very  well  comfort  a  Christian  that  there  are 
such  adorable  depths  in  the  wonders  of  redemption. 
There  are  depths  in  sin.  Its  very  existence  under  the 
government  of  a  God  who  hates  it  is  an  infinite  mystery, 
and  it  has  whetted  the  sword  of  an  infinite  justice.  But 
at  the  table  of  the  Lord  you  are  going  to  handle  the  em- 
blems of  a  crucifixion  whose  august  wonders  assort  with 
all  the  depths  of  guilt.  You  will  take  the  cup,  and  in 
the  face  of  guilt,  and  law,  and  justice,  and  hell,  you  will 
exclaim :  The  hlood  of  Jesus  Christ  his  Son  cleanseth  us 
from  all  sin :  Oh,  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  ivisdom 
and  hnoivledge  of  God  I 

It  may  not  be  an  easy  thing  for  a  believer  to  wake  up 


890  THE  DEPTHS  OF  SALVATION. 

in  his  heart  the  faith  of  fellowship  with  God.  He  is  a 
creature,  a  very  little  creature,  an  unworthy  creature — a 
sinner  and  a  child  of  the  dust.  How  shall  he  overstep 
the  distance  betwixt  him  and  God,  and  venture  to  be- 
lieve that  God  will  ever  condescend  to  commune  with 
him  ?  Let  him  say,  OA,  the  de^pth  !  and  reahze  that  the 
wonders  of  redemption  accord  with  all  the  wonders  of 
his  wants. 

God  has  done  amazing  things  for  you.  He  has  done 
them  like  himself  He  has  done  them  in  a  manner  to 
accord  with  your  condition.  He  will  carry  them  out  to 
the  end.  Nothing  rem^ains  to  be  done  for  you  more 
wonderful  than  he  has  done  already.  In  a  little  while 
you  will  be  done  with  earth.  If  you  believe,  you  shall 
see  the  salvation  of  God,  you  shall  exchange  the  com- 
munion of  earth  for  the  communion  of  heaven.  When 
you  are  stretched  upon  the  bed  of  death,  Jesus  Christ 
shall  come  to  you  as  he  hath  promised.  He  will  destroy 
your  last  enemy.  He  will  bear  your  released  and  redeemed 
spirit  up  to  the  house  of  many  mansions.  As  your  eyes 
open  upon  the  splendors  of  immortality,  and  your  soul 
laves  itself  in  the  ocean  of  glory,  your  lips  will  exclaim, 
Oh,  the  depth  !   Oh^  the  depth  ! 


\ 


[SACRAMENTAL.] 

God,  who  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us,  even 
when  we  were  dead  in  sins,  hath  quickened  us  together  with  Christ  (by 
grace  are  ye  saved),  and  hath  raised  us  up  together,  and  made  us  sit 
together  in  heavenly  places,  in  Christ  Jesus,  that  in  the  ages  to  come  he 
might  show  the  exceeding  riches  of  his  grace  in  his  kindness  toward  us 
through  Jesus  Christ. — Ephesians,  ii.  4 — 7. 

MY  bretliren,  it  is  a  most  oppressive  idea  whicli  has 
led  us  to  make  choice  of  these  words  to  aid  your 
devotions  this  morning.  Strange  as  it  may  seem  that 
sentiments  of  grief  should  have  thrown  us  upon  such  a 
passage  as  this,  it  is,  nevertheless,  but  too  true ! 

You  know  little  about  the  trials  of  a  minister.  You 
never  realized  the  difficulty  of  Jiis  studies  and  the  dread- 
ful perplexity  of  his  plans,  in  those  seasons  of  indiffer- 
ence, barrenness,  and  backsliding,  when,  to  use  the 
figure  of  the  Apostle,  the  Word  of  God  is  hound!  At 
such  seasons,  it  is  not  easy  to  preach.  It  is  most  diffi- 
cult. It  is  most  burdensome  !  When  religion  prospers 
— when  the  beauty  and  richness  of  its  fruits  appear  in 
the  lives  of  its  professors — when  the  unconverted  are 
seeking  the  Lord — when  the  members  of  the  Church — 
pious,  prayerful,  devoted,  happy^ — are  manifestly  rising 
superior  to  the  world  and  self,  and  are  more  anxious 
about  following  Christ  and   becoming   like   him,   than 


892  SKETCH    OF   THE    PLAN   OF   SALVATION. 

about  any  thing  else;  then  a  minister  finds  but  little 
difficulty.  Whatever  subject  he  chooses  it  becomes  a 
word  in  season ;  whatever  chord  of  the  heart  he  would 
touch  he  finds  it  ready  to  vibrate,  strung  and  tuned  as  it 
is  to  all  the  influences  of  religion.  Then  he  may  choose 
subjects,  and  form  plans  of  sermons,  without  the  burden 
of  the  idea  to  crush  him,  that  these  subjects  and  these 
plans  will  all  be  useless;  that  in  presenting  them,  he 
must  soio  to  the  wind  and  reap  the  whirlwind  !  An  unin- 
terested and  barren  Church  is  a  very  different  thing  to 
preach  to  !  A  congregation  of  careless  unbelievers  is  a 
most  disheartening  audience  !  To  such  a  people  what 
can  a  minister  say  ?  His  words  will  seem  to  them  like 
idle  tales  !  What  subjects  shall  he  choose  ?  What  plans 
shall  he  form  ?  What  trains  of  thought  shall  he  aim, 
with  all  his  power,  to  put  into  the  minds  of  his  hearers, 
when  he  knows  that  the  first  influences  of  sin  will  scatter 
them  all  to  the  winds,  and  not  unlikely  the  very  hearers 
whom  his  hard  labors  strove  to  bless,  will  turn  and  make 
him  the  butt  of  their  complainings !  These  are  hard 
times  !  Their  trials  strike  deep  !  They  make  a  minister 
feel  as  Isaiah  did  when,  forsaken  by  those  who  ought  to 
have  sustained  him,  he  retires  from  his  toils  for  man,  to 
indulge  his  tears  with  God,  and,  seated  on  the  lone  crag 
of  the  mountain  rock,  he  wraps  his  face  in  his  mantle : 
Lord,  vjho  hath  believed  our  report  f  They  make  a  minister 
feel  as  Jeremiah  did  when,  his  message  rejected  by  so 
many,  he  seems  to  wish  he  had  never  been  born :  Woe  is 
me,  7ny  mother  1  thou  hast  home  me  a  man  of  strife  and  con- 
tention to  the  whole  earth  I  Or  when  he  seems  resolved  to 
renounce  a  useless  ministry  which  made  him  so  miser- 
able :  The  word  of  the  Lord  is  made  a  reproach  unto  me  and 
a  derision  daily ;   then  I  said,  I  tvill  not  make  mention  of 


SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION.     893 

him,  nor  speak  any  more  in  his  name — lie  resolved  never 
to  preach  another  sermon. 

This  oppressive,  this  miserable  idea,  drove  me  upon 
this  text.  It  had  two  influences  upon  me.  One  was,  I 
dared  not  form  a  plan  of  a  sermon — I  dared  not  select 
any  theme  from  the  wide  field  of  the  Gospel,  and  attempt 
to  explain,  divide,  demonstrate,  and  apply  it  under  the 
ordinary  rules  of  composition.  The  other  was,  I  hoped — ■ 
yes  I  did  hope,  and  I  bless  God  that  I  can  hope — that  a 
passage  like  this,  just  the  ideas  of  the  Holy  Ghost, 
without  any  plan  or  arrangement  of  mine,  and  a  passage 
so  full  of  the  mercy  of  God,  might  still  find  some  access 
to  your  hearts,  and  draw  you  to  the  Lord's  table  to-day, 
under  the  power  of  sentiments  which  shall  make  this 
more  than  a  common  communion.  I  hope  so  still. 
After  you  have  attended  to  this  preaching  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  I  hope  you  will  be  constrained  to  say :  His  word  is 
in  my  heart  as  a  burning  fire  shut  iqo  in  my  hones ;  I  am 
loeary  luith  forbearing  and  can  not  stay.  Oh  Lord  !  thou 
hast  draiun  me  and  I  was  drawn  ;  thou  art  stronger  than  /, 
and  hast  prevailed  ;  draw  me  and  I  ivill  run  after  thee. 

In  the  text  we  read  to  you,  the  Holy  Spirit  furnishes  a 
sketch  of  the  great  salvation.  He  seems  to  call  the  mind 
to  a  flight  from  one  eternity  to  another.  He  calls  it  back 
to  the  eternity  of  God,  and  onward  to  the  eternity  of 
saints.  And  he  fills  up  the  space  between  the  two  with 
all  the  grace-wrought  achievements  of  the  Son  of  God, 
and  the  privileges  which  belong  to  the  believer.  Hear 
him :  God,  ivho  is  rich  in  mercy,  for  his  great  love  where- 
luith  he  loved  us,  even  when  we  icere  dead  in  sinSj  hath 
quickened  us  together  with  Christy  and  hath  raised  us  up)  to- 
gether, and  made  us  sit  together  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ 
Jesus  ;  that  in  tJie  ages  to  come  he  might  show  the  exceeding 

17* 


894     SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION. 

riches  of  his  grace  in  his  kindness  toward  us  through  Jesus 
Christ,  What  a  sketch  !  What  a  wonderful  sketch  of 
the  great  salvation!  It  goes  from  eternity  to  eternity. 
It  shows  the  whole  redeeming  operations  of  God  for  poor 
sinners  like  iis,  dead  and  alive  again.  It  contains  a  con- 
densation of  the  Gospel ;  what  a  sinner  was,  and  what 
grace  makes  him.  So  the  Holy  Ghost  preaches  to  us. 
God  grant  it  may  not  be  in  vain  to  our  hearts. 

In  this  Sketch  of  our  salvation  there  are  seven  leading 
ideas : — 

Its  Author,  Ood. 

Its  origin,  rich  mercy. 

Its  motive,  great  love  ivherewith  he  loved  us. 

The  condition  in  which  it  finds  its  subjects,  dead  in  sin. 

Its  operation,  hath  quickened  us  together  with  Christ. 

Its  exaltation,  hath  raised  us  uj)  together  and  made  us  sit 
together  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ. 

Its  glorious  and  everlasting  purpose,  that  in  the  ages  to 
come  he  might  shoiv  the  exceeding  riches  of  his  grace  in  his 
kindness  toward  us  through  Jesus  Christ. 

These  are  the  ideas  and  this  the  order  of  the  Holy 
Spirit.  We  will  not  go  beyond  them.  Let  us  take  these 
as  the  sermonizing  of  the  Spirit,  and  if  we  are  not  moved 
by  it,  let  our  hearts  not  his  method  bear  the  blame. 

Truth,  you  know,  is  in  order  to  holiness.  Light, 
knowledge,  is  the  sanctifying  instrumentality  of  God. 
The  Author  of  our  being  deals  with  us  according  to  the 
nature  he  has  given  us.  Having  formed  us  with  minds 
and  hearts  capable  of  understanding  and  being  affected 
by  the  truth,  he  does  not  approach  us  to  affect  us,  to  do 
us  good,  to  offer  us  the  blessings  of  his  grace,  or  confer 
them  upon  us,  as  if  we  Avere  to  have  no  active  and  will- 
ing agency  in  receiving  them.     He  expects  us  to  conspire 


SKETCH  OF  THE   PLAN  OF  SALVATION.  895 

ivitli  him.  When  he  unfolds  truth,  he  expects  us  to  see 
it.  When  he  impresses  it,  he  expects  us  to  feel  it. 
When  he  points  out  its  end  and  aim,  he  expects  us  to 
put  shoes  on  our  fcet^  take  staff  in  our  hand,  turn  our  face 
toward  the  wilderness,  and  travel  through  its  deserts  by 
faith,  if  we  would  ever  reach  the  green  fields  of  our 
promised  land.  And  when  he  preaches  such  sermons  as 
the  text,  it  is  for  no  mere  exhibit  of  great  principles,  but 
to  have  us  use  the  principles — to  have  our  faith,  our 
hearts,  and  our  habits  helped  by  them,  if  we  would  ever 
expect  to  be  saved.  These  ideas  about  our  salvation  are 
full  of  meaning.  They  ought  not  to  leave  us  barren  of 
either  Christian  improvements  or  Christian  comforts. 
Let  us  enter  upon  them. 

1.  In  this  sketch  the  Author  of  salvation  is  mentioned  : 
It  is  God. 

My  dear  friends,  your  salvation  would  have  been  a 
very  different  matter  if  this  article  had  been  different. 
Had  its  authorship  been  any  where  else ;  had  it  been  in 
nature  ;  had  this  system  been  nothing  more  than  one  of 
the  common  operations  of  Deity  on  those  principles  which 
we  denominate  natural  principles,  that  fact  would  have 
changed  the  whole  system ;  and  the  human  mind  and 
human  heart  ought  then  to  have  been  affected  by  it  in  a 
very  different  manner.  A  miracle  is  one  thing,  and  the 
common  operation  of  God  in  his  providence  is  quite  an- 
other thing.  The  comparison  is  just.  There  is  no  ex- 
travagance in  it.  Salvation  is  a  miracle— an  infinite 
miracle.  In  the  whole,  God  is  the  Author.  God,  just  as 
much  distinguished  in  the  moral  means  and  moral 
achievements  of  salvation  from  all  his  other  moral 
achievements  and  means,  as  he  is  distinguished  in  a 
miracle  from  his  ordinary  works.     The  man  who  walks 


896      SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAX  OF  SALVATION. 

abroad  in  all  the  strength  and  agility  of  his  feet,  does  so 
by  the  power  of  God,  and  he  ought  to  realize  it.  When 
he  goes  into  the  contest  in  which  his  fleetness  or  strength 
gives  him  hope,  he  ought  to  remember  that,  without  God, 
tJie  race  is  not  to  the  swift  nor  the  battle  to  the  strong.  But 
far  different  ought  to  be  the  emotions  of  one,  a  cripple 
fror)i  his  hirth^  now  gifted  with  the  ordinary  powers  of  a 
man.  He  ought  to  be  in  the  temple,  walking^  and  leap- 
ing^ and  pjraising  God.  God  is  as  emphatically  and  sin- 
gularly the  author  of  salvation  as  he  is  the  author  of  that 
strength  which  has  come  to  the  cripple's  bones.  This 
salvation  is  a  new  work  of  God.  It  is  as  much  out  of 
the  way  of  the  ordinary  operations  of  God  as  the  healing 
of  a  man  lame  from  his  mother'' s  womb.  It  is  something 
of  which  God  is  the  author  by  as  direct  an  interposition, 
and  an  interposition  as  much  removed  from  his  common 
operations,  as  a  miracle  is  from  any  ordinary  fact.  All 
the  powers  and  principles  of  human  nature,  impelled  by 
all  the  motives  of  a  contemplated  immortality,  and  aided 
by  all  the  light  of  the  universe,  and  all  the  sympathies 
and  strength  of  it,  too,  from  among  angels  and  men, 
could  never  have  saved  the  soul  of  one  poor  sinner. 
Man  might  have  sighed  and  angels  might  have  sympa- 
thized with  him  and  lent  him  all  their  aid ;  he  might 
have  taxed  the  powers  of  his  heart  amid  all  the  bright 
lessons  of  the  universe  which  tell  him  of  the  goodness  of 
God  ;  but  never  could  one  soul  have  been  saved  had  not 
God  himself  undertaken  the  work.  This  is  an  important 
idea. 

Salvation  becomes  a  very  different  thing  to  me  when 
I  see  it  flowing  from  the  operations  of  God — operations 
above  and  beyond  all  his  ordinary  operations  on  matter 
and  on  mind !     It  attaches  me  to  the  Deity  by  a  new 


SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION.     897 

principle.  It  shows  me  God  himself  making  for  me  a 
new  system  and  a  new  world  1  It  attaches  an  infinitely 
higher  value  to  my  salvation,  and  attaches  me  to  my 
Eedeemer  as  my  Lord  and  my  God.  And  I  feel  alike 
bound  and  inclined  to  be  as  much  more  grateful  and  de- 
voted on  this  account,  as  I  should  be  for  my  power  of 
walking,  if  a  miracle,  and  not  nature,  had  given  me  feet. 
2.  In  this  sketch  of  salvation  furnished  in  the  text  by 
the  Holy  Ghost,  the  Origin  of  salvation  is  mentioned  :  it 
is  the  rich  mercy  of  God.  This  is  the  origin  of  the  Gospel 
method.  God  acts  in  mercy ^  in  rich  mercy ^  when  he  saves 
sinners  like  us.  It  is  not  in  justice,  though  not  contrary 
to  it.  It  is  not  goodness  merely.  It  is  goodness  of  a 
new  and  peculiar  kind.  Mercy  is  the  exercise  of  good- 
will toward  those  who  have  not  merited  good- will.  And 
the  mercy,  the  rich  mercy  which  saves  us,  is  the  exercise 
of  God's  good- will  toward  those  who  have  merited  anger 
and  punishment.  This  is  peculiar  to  the  Gospel  system 
and  operations.  There  is  nothing  like  it  any  where  else. 
When  I  go  out  among  the  works  of  God,  and  witness  a 
thousand  operations  which  diffase  happiness  over  his  fair 
and  bright  creation,  I  see  testimonies  enough  that  God 
is  good.  I  find  no  contrivance  or  operation  designed 
wholly,  and  working  wholly  to  produce  unhappiness. 
True,  I  find  hearts  bleeding,  and  know  the  sensibilities 
which  make  them  bleed  were  planted  in  them  by  God. 
But  I  know,  too,  that  the  same  sensibilities  are  needful 
as  qualifications  for  felicity ;  and  that  a  heart  which,  in 
such  a  world  as  this,  could  not  be  sad,  could  not  be 
happy.  Moreover,  I  find  proofs  enough  within  me  and 
without  me,  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  the  joy  of 
grief — something  like  many  recollections  of  the  past,  as 
sweet  as  they  are  mournful  to  the  soul.     And  especially 


398  SKETCH  OF  THE   PLAN  OF   SALVATION. 

I  find  in  the  clustering,  thougli  qualified  felicities  of  the 
world,  that  its  Maker  has  done  much  to  make  it  happy. 
I  find  direct  proofs  of  this.  All  the  utilities  of  the 
vegetable  world,  for  example,  could  have  been  compassed 
by  God  if  no  Divine  pencil  had  touched,  with  rich  and 
sweet  coloring,  the  blossoms  of  the  spring-time.  Those 
hues  of  beauty  which  do  so  much  to  please  the  eye  are 
not  needful  for  fruits  or  timber.  Grod  could  have  caused 
both  without  them.  In  such  things;  in  the  thousand 
tasteful  adornings  of  his  universe ;  in  the  felicities  of 
the  wild-bird  that  carols  on  the  wing ;  in  the  felicities  of 
the  beast  upon  his  sunny  hills ;  of  the  inhabitants  of  the 
sea,  who  sport  from  its  azure  surface  down  to  the  depths 
of  the  ocean's  bed ;  we  find  indisputable  testimonies  of 
the  goodness  of  the  Deity.  These  testimonies  (I  am  not 
going  to  undervalue  them)  may  be  tokens  of  mercy.  I 
mean  they  may  be  hints  flung  out  to  man  to  make  the 
inquiry^  whether  in  God  their  author  there  may  not  be 
goodness  which  shall  reach  to  the  sinfully  unworthy. 
But  nothing  answers  this  inquiry.  The  earth,  the 
heavens,  are  silent.  In  all  the  universe  there  is  not  the 
least  item  of  proof  that  the  goodness  of  God  will  ever 
save  the  guilty.  This  goodness — and  it  is  rich  mercy — 
is  revealed  solely  in  the  Gospel.  Salvation  on  this  ac- 
count becomes  a  very  different  thing  to  me.  I  see  in  it 
the  rich  mercy  of  God.  I  see  God,  its  author,  operating 
in  a  new  field,  and  on  new  principles,  in  such  a  way  as 
he  operates  nowhere  else ;  for  I  see  the  atonement  of  the 
Divine  Eedeemer,  and  the  special  operations  of  the  Holy 
Ghost.  This  attaches  me  to  salvation  by  a  new  tie,  an 
unequaled  demonstration  of  God's  love  for  me.  It 
gives  me  a  new  lesson  about  the  Deity.  It  demonstrates 
to  me,  what  all  God's  goodness  to  creatures  on  earth  and 


SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION.     399 

to  angels  in  heaven  could  not  demonstrate.  For  it  shows 
me  that  the  Divine  goodness  operates  to  reach  those 
deserving  of  punishment  and  anger.  Mercy^  rich  mercy 
is  the  origin  of  my  salvation.  Nothing  else  could  origi- 
nate it.  God  never  did  any  thing  else  hke  it.  God  acts 
here  as  he  acts  nowhere  else ;  and  I  feel  myself  bound  to 
him  by  a  loftier  principle  than  any  which  binds  an  arch- 
angel in  heaven.  If  sin  is  the  greatest  evil,  salvation  is 
the  greatest  of  all  God's  wonderful  achievements.  For 
me  mercy  operates :  for  me — a  sinner,  a  wanderer  from 
God,  whom  justice  not  only,  but  all  God's  other  goodness 
w^ould  properly  have  left  to  the  eternal  wages  of  sin — rich 
mercy  intervenes,  and  originates  the  salvation  of  God. 

3.  And  God  in  this  operation  was  moved  by  love:  For 
his  great  love  wherewith  he  loved  us.  My  brethren,  when 
we  attempt  to  reason  about  the  feelings  of  the  Deity,  we 
are  exceedingly  liable  to  err.  The  theme  is  too  vast  for 
us.  We  can  never  compass  it.  What  should  move 
God,  how  could  we  tell  ?  We  are  only  the  creatures  of 
a  day,  and  soon  perish.  We  are  little  and  limited  beings. 
We  whose  reason  can  proceed  but  a  little  way  among 
things  seen  and  temporal ;  we  whose  powers  are  baffled  at 
every  step;  we  erring  mortals;  we  worms,  dust  and 
ashes  ;  what  could  we  tell  about  the  Deity  ?  How  could 
we  dive  into  the  depths  of  the  Infinite  Mind,  and  tell 
what  should  move  that  high  and  lofty  one  luho  inhahiteth 
eternity  ?  Hide,  hide  thyself  in  the  dust,  thou  diminutive 
creature  !  Tremble  and  quail,  thou  guilty  sinner !  As 
high  as  heaven^  ivhat  canst  thou  dof  deeper  than  hell^  what 
canst  thou  know?  But  stop!  No.  Lift  up  thy  head, 
thou  trembling  mortal !  The  Gospel  speaks  to  thee. 
Be  not  afraid.  The  Gospel  tells  thee  what  feeling  it  is 
that  moves  thy  God.     Thou,  miserable  wretch !  thou,  a 


400     SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION. 

fearful  trembling  sinner !  thou,  whose  sighs  began  with 
thy  first  breath,  and  will  not  cease  till  thy  last  breath 
has  left  thy  nostrils ;  thou  didst  move  the  Infinite  Mind ! 
Ood  loved  tliee^  thou  miserable  sinner  !  The  dark  uncer- 
tainties of  creation  and  providence  are  put  to  flight  by 
the  Gospel.  God  is  love.  We  need  not  reason  about 
the  feelings  of  the  Deity  toward  us.  We  knoiu  what  they 
are.  The  great  love  ivherewith  he  loved  us  beams  on  us  its 
demonstrations  from  every  page  of  the  Gospel,  and 
drives  to  a  returnless  distance  the  dark  and  distressful 
uncertainties  which  reason  must  always  have  left  to  hang 
like  a  pall  around  the  nature  of  God ! 

Again,  this  attaches  me  to  the  Gospel.  My  salvation 
commenced  in  love.  Not  in  might,  not  in  majesty,  not 
in  any  of  those  attributes  of  grandeur  which  fling  such 
fearfalness  and  awe  around  the  throne  of  God's  almighti- 
ness !  Ko,  no.  It  began  in  love.  This  is  what  my 
heart  wants — just  what  it  wants.  It  wants  God  to  love 
me.  Nothing  else  will  do.  In  a  few  days  I  am  going 
to  be  cut  off  from  all  the  endearments  and  sympathies  of 
life.  My  friends,  my  wife,  my  children — if  they  live,  I 
must  die !  I  haste  to  the  end.  The  grave  is  ready  to 
receive  me,  and  I  sink  into  its  bosom !  Neither  in  that 
cold  spot  nor  in  the  country  beyond  it  can  the  loves  of 
the  world  reach  me !  In  that  country  I  shall  possess 
these  same  sensibilities,  my  spirit  will  be  such  that  I 
shall  want  something  to  love,  and  want  some  being  to 
love  me.  Earthly  loves  may  do  very  well  for  me  here. 
They  may  still  the  throbbings  of  many  an  anxious  hour, 
smooth  the  pillow  for  my  dying  head,  and  let  me  know 
that  the  clay  I  am  forsaking  shall  have  a  decent  burial. 
But  for  my  eternity  no  love  but  God's  will  do  for  me. 
If  he  can  love  me,  sinner  as  I  am^  and  I  can  know  and 


SKETCH   OF  THE   PLAN   OF   SALVATION.  401 

love  Mm,  then  I  am  perfectly  assured  that  nothing  shall 
ever  arise  in  the  mighty  roll  of  eternal  ages  that  shall 
dash  my  joys,  and  make  me  a  miserable  creature.  This 
is  enough.  To  have  my  God  love  me  is  enough.  The 
Gospel  assures  me  that  he  has  loved  me,  and  loved  me 
though  a  sinner ;  and  has  given  an  infinite  and  bloody 
demonstration  of  that  love ;  the  demonstration — the  only 
demonstration  which  could  ever  satisfy  my  heart  in  re- 
spect to  his  love  ;  namely,  that  his  love  has  made  a  pre- 
cious SACRIFICE  for  me.  And,  now,  if  taj  faith  embraces 
that  love,  I  can  look  for  the  sympathies,  and  kindness, 
and  tenderness  of  my  God  and  Maker,  in  all  the  exi- 
gences which  may  betide  me,  from  the  death -bed  where 
earthly  loves  forsake  me,  onward  to  the  remotest  ages  of 
eternity.  This  attaches  me  to  God  by  the  right  bond 
and  right  demonstration.  It  satisfies  my  hopes  and  my 
heart  when  I  know  the  great  love  wherewith  my  Ood  loved 
Trie.  Even  when  we  were  dead  in  sins,  adds  this  Sketch  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.     It  is  the  fourth  idea. 

4.  The  love  of  God  reached  us  when  we  were  in  a 
most  unworthy  and  miserable  condition.  We  were  dead 
in  sins.  Two  ideas  are  included  here.  One  is,  that  our 
transgressions  deserved,  and  had  incurred  the  penalty  of 
the  law  of  God,  eternal  death.  The  other  is,  that  sin  had 
put  out  the  life  of  the  soul,  removed  from  it  all  qualifica- 
tions of  spiritual  existence,  all  power  of  doing  and  enjoy- 
ing any  thing  agreeable  to  God,  and  in  which  the  soul  of 
man  finds  its  best  and  highest  portion.  Such  is  man. 
He  is  a  dead  man.  He  is  dead  to  holiness,  dead  to 
heaven,  dead  to  God,  dead  to  all  the  interests  which  fill 
up  the  eternity  that  awaits  him  1  He  can  enjoy  many 
delights.  Amid  the  things  of  the  world  he  can  gratify 
his  tastes,  and  fill  up  the  little  hour  of  life  with  day- 


402     SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION. 

dreams  of  pleasure  vanishing  one  after  another,  at  the 
touches  of  truth  and  his  own  experience.  But  he  can 
not  enjoy  God^  and  can  not  enjoy  himself  but  little. 
His  own  mind  often  troubles  him,  and  he  becomes  his 
own  tormentor  when  he  realizes  partially,  as  sometimes 
he  must  realize,  that  in  his  irreligious  course  he  is  doing 
much  and  suffering  much  to  gain  nothing  but  a  winding- 
sheet,  a  coffin,  and  a  grave ;  and  beyond  these  a  fear- 
fal  looldng-for  of  judgment^  indignation  and  wrath,  tribu- 
lation and  anguish !  He  does  not  love  his  God,  and  can 
not  enjoy  him.  Without  this  salvation,  he  must  have 
all  his  good  things  in  his  life-time  ;  and  then  it  would  be 
better  for  that  man  if  he  had  never  been  born. 

Salvation  is  wrought  out  for  this  guilty  and  unworthy 
creature.  And  such,  my  dear  brethren,  were  ye.  But  ye 
are  ivashed^  hut  ye  are  sanctified^  hut  ye  are  justified,  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord  Jesus  and  hy  the  Spirit  of  our  Ood. 
The  love  of  God  reached  you  when  ye  were  in  that  guilty 
and  unworthy  condition.  And  this  afternoon  we  are 
going  to  rejoice  in  it,  and  sing  about  it — 

"  'Twas  love  that  kept  the  throne, 
And  wrath  stood  silent  by, 
When  God's  eternal  Son  came  down 
To  groan,  and  bleed,  and  die." 

I  hope  you  will  be  able  to  sing  happily,  and  in  all  the 
sweetness  of  a  Divine  hope.  Ye  ought  to  be.  The  order 
in  which  the  Holy  Ghost  has  placed  this  idea  in  the  text 
is  most  consolatory — God  loved  us  even  when  we  were  dead 
in  sins. 

I  have  often  thought  that  if  it  were  not  for  two  ideas 
in  the  Gospel,  half  the  anxious  world  would  be  driven 
to  despair.     This  is  one  of  them  .•  Even  when  we  loere  dead 


SKETCH  OF  THE   PLAN  OF  SALVATION.  403 

in  sin,   the  great   love  of  God   reached  us.     And,   if  it 

BEACHED  US  THERE,  IS  IT  EVER  GOING  TO  FAIL  US  ?      BleSS- 

ed,  blessed  argument !  I  declare  to  you  tliat  if  salvation 
were  not  published  to  me  as  thus  gratuitous,  thus  gra- 
cious— God  loving  the  sinner  where  he  might  most  right- 
eously have  sent  him  to  perdition — I  should  often  find  all 
the  light  of  my  hope  going  out  under  the  oppression  of 
the  fear  that  I  had  sinned  beyond  the  reach  of  all  the 
mercy  of  God !  In  my  heart  what  ingratitude !  what 
forgetfulness  of  God  !  what  pride  !  what  coldness  !  what 
vanity !  what  hardness  after  all  the  mercies  he  has  shown 
me  !  But  when  I  remember  this  preaching  of  the  Holy 
Spirit:  God  loved  us  ichen  we  luere  dead  in  sins  ;  I  HOPE  HE 
WILL  LOVE  ME  STILL.     This  is  One  of  the  ideas. 

The  other  is  linked  with  it  He  that  spared  not  his  own 
Son,  but  freely  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not 
with  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  ?  These  two  ideas 
are  enough.  Despair  has  no  business  to  afflict  a  crea- 
ture whom  God  loved,  when  there  was  nothing  in 
HIM  to  be  loved — when  he  was  dead  in  sin!  and 
despair  has  no  business  in  a  world  which  has  furnished  a 
cradle  and  a  cross  for  the  Son  of  God.  I  may  have 
Christ  for  mine  ;  and  if  I  have  him,  I  have  all  that  a  sin- 
ful and  guilty  creature  can  ever  want. 

"  The  Lord 's  my  shepherd — I  '11  not  want ; 
He  makes  me  down  to  lie 
In  pastures  green  ;  he  leadeth  me 
The  quiet  waters  by." 

5.  Hence  the  fifth  idea  of  this  Sketch  of  salvation  is 
its  operation :  Hath  quickened  us  together  luith  Christ. 
The  meaning  of  this  is  that  God  quickens  believers  (or 
makes  them  alive  from  their  spiritual  death)  in  regenera- 


404     SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION. 

tion  just  as  really  as  the  dead  body  of  Christ,  torn  and 
mangled,  and  laid  in  the  tomb,  was  made  alive  again. 
His  resurrection  was  a  copy  of  theirs,  and  theirs  is  on 
account  of  him.  They  live  in  him.  When  he  rises  they 
rise.  Because  he  lives  they  shall  live  also.  Oh  what  bright 
and  blessed  links  in  this  chain  of  salvation  which  lifts  us 
to  heaven !  Jesus  Christ  is  the  head  of  the  church  and 
representative  of  his  people.  He  is  God's  pledge  to 
them.  He  became  their  surety.  The  Father  accepted 
him  as  such,  and  the  demonstration  that  he  fulfilled  all 
the  demands  upon  his  suretyship  was  to  be  found  in 
his  resurrection  from  the  dead.  He  rose  the  conqueror 
of  death,  and  laden  with  the  spoils  of  the  grave ;  and 
the  same  Divine  power  by  which  he  came  back  from  the 
dead,  operates  when  a  sinner  is  regenerated  and  made  a 
new  creature  in  Christ. 

This  operation  has  been  occupying  some  of  your 
thoughts,  while  you  have  been  preparing  for  this  com- 
munion season.  You  have  been  considering  the  Divine 
life  in  your  souls.  You  have  been  looking  back  upon 
the  past,  and  remembering  what  you  were. 

One  of  you  has  been  saying :  Years  have  rolled  on 
since  I  first  became  a  communicant.  Grace  met  me,  I 
hope,  a  great  while  ago.  But  it  was  grace.  There  was 
nothing  in  me  then,  and  there  is  nothing  in  me  now  by 
reason  of  which  I  could  ever  live  to  God,  and  hope  to  be 
purified  and  live  with  him  in  heaven.  The  more  I  see 
of  my  heart,  through  all  this  course  of  years,  the  more 
experimental  proofs  I  find  that  j  ust  hy  the  grace  of  God  I 
am  ivhat  I  am. 

Another  of  you  has  been  saying:  This  hope  of  mine 
is  the  work  of  God  I  am  a  new  creature,  and  God^s  work- 
manship in  Christ  Jesus.     Once  I  was  far  different  from 


SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION.     405 

this.  I  neglected  religion  ;  I  did  not  love  God.  I  was 
worldly.  I  was  envious.  I  was  covetous.  I  was  proud 
and  unforgiving.  But  now  I  can  forgive  my  bitterest 
enemies.  I  love  God,  and  love  his  service.  I  can  give 
up  the  Avorld  and  take  Jesus ;  and  I  humbly  hope  that 
he  who  has  begun  a  good  work  in  me  will  perform  it 
until  the  day  of  Jesus  Christ. 

Another  of  you  has  been  saying :  A  few  years  since,  I 
thought  the  world  was  every  thing.  An  ardent  boy,  my 
heart  panted  for  riches,  honors,  pleasures.  My  thoughts 
were  all  occupied  about  the  world.  I  plunged  into  it. 
I  forgot  God  !  I  forgot  death  !  I  neglected  prayer !  I 
was  bound  toward  perdition !  But  grace  rescued  me 
from  my  dreadful  delusion  and  peril !  God  opened  my 
eyes  and  led  me  to  seek  first  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

Another  of  you  has  been  saying :  A  little  while  ago  I 
was  a  wild,  giddy  girl !  I  cared  little  for  the  love  of 
God  I  I  lived  for  the  pleasures  of  the  world.  If  I  prayed 
at  all,  it  was  by  constraint,  and  not  from  the  attractions 
of  holiness  and  the  love  of  my  God.  But  grace  saved 
me.  It  was  God's  own  operation.  He  sent  the  message 
which  opened  my  eyes  to  see  the  precipice  on  which  I 
was  sporting,  and  down  which  it  is  a  thousand  wonders 
that  I  had  not  plunged !  He  opened  my  heart  to  the 
love  of  Jesus  ;  and  made  me  know  that  this  love  is  better 
than  all  other  loves.  Oh,  I  would  not  go  back  to  the 
world : 

"  Jesus,  I  my  cross  have  taken, 

All  to  leave  and  follow  thee. 
Perish  every  fond  ambition, 

All  I  've  sought,  or  loved,  or  known  ; 
Yet  how  blest  is  my  condition, 

God  and  heaven  are  stiU  mine  own." 

Another  of  you  has  been  saying :  I  am  now  going  to 


406     SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION. 

the  communion-table :  I  do  hope  in  the  mercy  of  my  God. 
Only  a  few  days  ago  I  was  struggling  with  this  dark  and 
dreadful  heart !  It  would  not  break,  it  would  not  bow  I 
I  saw  I  was  lost,  dead  in  sin,  an  enemy  of  God,  but  my 
heart  would  not  yield !  All  was  a  wilderness  to  me ! 
My  thoughts  quarreled  with  God's  law,  with  its  awful 
penalty,  with  its  strictness,  with  my  own  helplessness, 
and  even  with  the  system  of  free  grace  and  the  offers  of 
the  Holy  Spirit  to  aid  me !  .  I  was  too  proud  and  self- 
righteous  for  these !  But  truth  pressed  upon  me.  The 
light  of  my  hope  went  out,  and  I  expected  to  have  made 
my  bed  in  hell !  But  my  God  saved  me !  He  sent  from 
above  :  He  took  me,  he  drew  me  out  of  many  waters,  and 
put  peace  into  this  bleeding  heart ! 

The  preparation  you  have  been  making  for  this  after- 
noon has  reminded  you  that  your  salvation  was  the 
operation  of  God. 

I  hope  it  hath  done  more  than  this.  I  hope  it  hath 
brought  you  to  the 

6th  Idea  of  this  sermon  of  the  Holy  Spirit :  Hath  raised 
us  up  together,  and  made  us  sit  together  in  heavenly  places  in 
Christ  Jesiis. 

There  are  two  ideas  included  in  this  exaltation  of 
the  believer  with  Christ.  The  one  is  that  of  the  covenant; 
the  other  is  that  of  experience.  You  may  take  your 
choice.  They  are  both  fit  for  the  communion-table. 
The  one  is,  that  just  as  surely  as  God  hath  raised  from 
the  dead  and  exalted  the  Saviour  to  heaven,  just  so 
surely  will  he  bring  the  believer  there.  This  is  so  cer- 
tain, on  the  promise  and  covenant  of  God,  that  this  exalta- 
tion is  spoken  of  as  bestowed  already.  It  is  bestowed. 
It  is  given  in  the  everlasting  covenant  of  God  to  every 
one  that  embraces,  in  faith,  his  Son.     And  no  matter 


SKETCH  OF  THE  PLAN  OF  SALVATION.  407 

what  obstacles  and  sins  may  seem  to  oppose,  what  wil- 
dernesses must  be  traveled  over,  or  what  Ked  Seas  or 
Jordans  must  be  passed,  the  believer  shall  at  last  reach 
heaven,  just  as  certainly  as  his  Saviour  has  got  there — as 
certainly  as  God  is  true.  This  is  the  idea  of  the  cove- 
nant. Christ,  the  covenant  head,  is  in  heaven,  and  that 
is  Jehovah's  pledge,  in  the  sight  of  men,  angels,  and 
devils,  that  where  he  is  believers  shall  he  also. 

The  other  idea  is  that  of  experience.  I  can  but  name  it 
now.  I  hope  I  need  not  do  more.  I  hope  you  will  come 
to  the  Lord's  table  this  afternoon  in  such  a  frame  of  soul 
that  you  will  know  what  it  means  to  sit  in  heavenly  places 
in  Christ  Jesus.  You  ivill  know,  if  YOU  HAVE  GRACE 
ENOUGH   TO    ENJOY   GRACE    ABOVE    EVERY    THING   ELSE, 

delighting  in  God.  The  experiences  of  grace  are  the  ex- 
altation of  the  believer.  They  are  such  when  he  feels 
that  it  is  better  for  him  to  be  a  believer  than  to  be  any 
thing  else.  Then  the  soul  is  lifted  to  communion  with 
God.  It  experiences  those  communications  of  grace 
which  lift  it  away  to  another  world,  and  loses  itself  in 
the  depths  and  enjoyment  of  that  love  which  the  Father 
has  manifested  to  us  in  the  gift  and  crucifixion  of  his 
Son.  Then  the  believer  loses  sight  of  the  world.  It  has 
faded  from  his  view  as  he  has  been  lifted  up  into  the 
sight  of  the  heavenly  city.  He  resembles  Peter  on  the 
mount  of  transfiguration :  Lord,  it  is  good  for  us  to  he  here. 
He  wishes  never  to  go  down  again :  Let  us  huild  three 
tabernacles.  Blessed  experience,  to  be  permitted  to  enjoy 
through  Christ  a  holy  delight  in  God,  and  the  tenderness 
of  a  heart-intimacy  with  him !  I  would  rather  be  a  re- 
deemed sinner  than  any  thing  else — delivered  by  love 
from  going  down  to  eternal  burnings.  Angels  can  never 
love  Christ  as  a  redeemed  sinner  loves  him.     He  has 


408  SKETCH   OF   THE    PLAN   OF   SALVATION". 

never  done  for  angels  wliat  he  has  done  for  poor  sinners. 
In  their  songs  of  personal  gratitude,  there  is  no  verse 
about  Bethlehem.  There  is  no  tale  of  bloody  memory 
such  as  the  Christian  sings  in  the  garden  of  Gethsemane. 
And  if  angels  stand  in  his  presence^  surely  a  redeemed 
sinner  may  come  nearer  still;  may  lie  at  his  feet  and 
lean  on  his  bosom,  and  look  up  in  his  face  and  sing, 

"  Love  I  much,  I  've  much  forgiven  1" 

This  is  the  idea  of  experience  included  in  the  believer's 
exaltation. 

Both  these  ideas  are  fit  for  the  communion-table.  We 
come  there  to  enter  into  covenant  with  God ;  and  we 
come  there  as  redeemed  and  forgiven  sinners  to  indulge 
our  hearts  in  loving  him  ivho  first  loved  us.  These  two 
ideas  are  the  believer's  exaltation,  for  these  things  are 
the  most  like  heaven  of  any  thing  that  lies  on  this  side 
of  the  river  of  death.     Let  us  see  : 

In  heaven  the  soul  has  got  home  to  God ;  and  sins, 
and  fears,  and  death  done  with,  it  feels  perfectly  secured 
for  all  that  it  can  ever  want  during  the  ceaseless  life-time 
of  eternity.  In  the  covenant^  the  soul  enters  into  that 
same  security  here.  The  covenanting  believer  has  all  he 
wants.  All  things  are  his.  Life,  death  is  his ;  for  he  is 
Christ's.  Nothing  can  harm  him  any  more.  All  things 
shall  ivorJc  for  his  good.  He  shall  never  shed  a  tear  too 
much,  nor  have  a  trial  too  sad,  nor  die  too  painfully  or 
too  quick.     Hear  his  covenant  song  : 

"  Man  may  trouble  and  distress  me, 
'Twill  but  drive  me  to  thy  breast ; 
Earth  with  trials  hard  may  press  me— 
Heaven  will  grant  me  sweeter  rest." 

In  heaven  the  redeemed  soul  has  the  full  enjoyment 


SKETCH   OF   THE   PLAN   OF   SALVATION.  409 

of  God.  It  is  filled  with  his  love,  and  is  like  him.  The 
believer  then  loalhs  with  Christ  in  ivhite  ;  and,  remember- 
ing Calvary  and  the  cross,  he  joins  in  the  anthem  of 
redemption :  Unto  him  that  loved  us  and  washed  us  from 
our  sins  in  his  own  blood.  In  his  experiences  here  the  be- 
liever resembles  this.  They  are  a  foretaste  of  heaven. 
They  make  him  resemble  heaven.  They  make  him  holy 
while  they  make  him  happy.  If  in  these  experiences 
you  come  unto  the  banqueting -house  this  afternoon,  j^ou 
will  have  something  of  that  sweet,  and  deep,  and  solemn, 
and  satisfying  joy  which  you  are  going  to  have  when 
grace  has  conducted  you  to  your  heavenly  home.  You 
will  be  seated  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ. 

But  you  can  not  always  be  here.  The  vacant  seats 
which  death  has  made  in  your  circle  at  your  communion- 
table, warn  you  that  your  last  communion  is  coming. 
Well — ^let  it  come. 

There  is  another  item  in  this  sermon  of  the  Holy 
Spirit :  That  in  the  ages  to  come  he  might  show  the  exceeding 
riches  of  his  grace^  in  his  kindness  toward  us  through  Jesus 
Christ 

7.  This  is  the  glorious  and  eternal  purpose  of  the  plan 
of  our  salvation.  There  is  something  most  consolatory 
in  this  idea.  I  know  not  how  to  express  it.  But  I  see 
in  it  what  is  elsewhere  expressed,  that  God  purposes 
to  save  me  for  his  own  name^s  sake ;  that,  in  the  ages 
of  eternity,  the  exceeding  riches  of  his  grace  in  his  kindness 
toward  us  through  Jesus  Christ  may  show  the  glory  of  the 
grace  of  God  to  an  astonished  and  adoring  universe ! 

My  salvation  would  be  a  very  different  thing  to  me  if 
its  purpose  were  not  thus  taken  from  the  Deity  himself. 
But  now  I  see  God  is  interested  in  saving  me.  It  will 
be  his  highest  glory  to  save  such  poor  sinners.     Angels 

18 


410  SKETCH   OF   THE    PLAN   OF   SALVATION. 

may  manifest  his  might,  but  blood-bought  sinners  Avill 
manifest  his  love!  Li  the  ages  to  coine,  angels  and  the 
archangel  shall  see  it  with  infinite  and  eternal  Avonder ! 
For  he  hath  created  all  things  hy  Christ  Jesus  TO  THE  INTENT 
that  unto  principalities  and  poiuers  in  heavenly  j^leices^  might 
he  made  known  BY  THE  CHURCH — (a  body  of  redeemed 
sinners) — the  manifold  tuisdom  of  God,  A  redeemed  sinner 
is  a  miracle,  and  will  be  a  miracle  to  all  eternity  !  In 
the  bosom  of  God,  and  sprinkled  with  the  blood  that 
bought  him,  there  angels  will  wonder  at  him ;  and  he 
will  wonder,  and  adore,  and  love  for  ever,  on  account  of 
the  exceeding  riches  of  grace^  the  KINDNESS  and  LOVE  of 
God  through  Jesus  CJirist  our  Lord.  Oh !  I  can  not  de- 
spair of  heaven !  Sin,  un worthiness,  weakness,  devils, 
can  not  make  me  despair!  My  salvation  commenced 
from  the  very  depths  of  the  Divine  naiure,  the  unfath- 
omable LOVE  of  God  ;  and  the  full  accomplishment  of  it 
shall  be  that  which  will  give  the  brightest  luster  to  the 
diadem  of  the  King  of  kings  !  If  I  could  not  hope  that 
God  would  save  me  for  my  sake,  the  Gospel  still  would 
let  me  hope  that  God  will  save  me  for  his  own  sake;  and 
hence  /  ivill  hojje,  for  the  greater  my  sin,  the  greater 
God's  own  glory  in  saving  me  !  My  prayer  shall  take 
that  argument — and  I  can  use  it  any  where  this  side  of 
the  belly  of  hell :  Save  me  for  thine  own  name  sake ! 
Glorify  thj^self — glorify  thy  Son — by  bringing  me  home 
to  heaven. 

To  that  heaven,  m}^  dear  people — to  those  ages  to 
come — ^this  Sketch  of  Salvation,  drawn  by  the  Holy 
Ghost,  calls  you  to  look  forward.  I  told  you  I  could 
not  preach  to  you  ;  but  let  this  text  preach.  Are  you 
ready  for  that  heaven ?  Are  you  preparing  for  it?  Is 
the  Divine  life,  into  which  you  profess  to  have  been 


SKETCH   OF   THE   PLAN   OF   SALVATION.  411 

quickened,  vigorous  and  growing  in  your  souls?  Do 
you  enjoy  God?  Do  you  realize  your  exaltation,  your 
high  felicity  and  glory  in  being  Christians,  the  beloved 
children  of  God,  and  redeemed  by  his  love?  Are  you 
happy  in  Christianity  ?  This  afternoon  you  are  coming 
to  its  central  scene — the  death  of  the  eternal  Son  of  God 
to  save  you  from  hell !  He  loved  you.  "When  you  were 
dead  in  sin  he  loved  you  and  gave  himself  a  ransom  for 
you. 

Does  your  heart  love  him?  Do  you  embrace  this  sal- 
vation of  God  as  the  best  and  highest  portion  you  are 
ever  to  enjoy?  And  can  you  now  send  out  your  antici- 
pations, with  the  text,  to  the  eternity  of  saints?  Can 
you  go  up  upon  the  top  of  Mount  Calvary,  and,  amid 
the  rending  rocks,  the  vinegar,  the  gall,  and  the  spear, 
the  darkened  heavens  and  the  dying  prayers  of  the  Son 
of  God,  can  you  say:  I  take  this  Saviour — this  blood 
for  my  own  ?  And  then,  going  out  upon  the  top  of 
Mount  Olivet,  and  lifting  your  eyes  after  the  ascending 
Saviour,  going  to  his  God,  now  your  God,  and  his 
Father,  now  your  Father,  can  you  exclaim,  He  has  gone 
to  jprejpare  a  place  for  me ;  he  will  come  again  and  receive 
me  to  himself. 

God  grant  it  to  you  according  to  the  exceeding  riches  of 
his  gracCj  in  his  kindness  toward  us  through  Jesus  Christ, 


[sacramental.] 

For  the  transgression  of  my  people  was  he  stricken. — Isaiah,  liii.  8. 

IT  is  probable  tbat  the  mode  of  expression  employed  in 
the  prophetical  writings  has  some  regard  to  the  man- 
ner in  which  it  pleased  God  to  show  the  prophets  what 
was  3^et  to  come.  He  gave  them  knowledge  of  futurity  ; 
for  the  benefit  of  his  church  through  all  generations,  he 
led  them  to  make  record  of  their  knowledge.  And  it  is 
reasonable  to  suppose  that  the  style  of  the  record  was 
influenced  by  the  way  in  which  their  knowledge  came 
to  their  mind. 

That  way  we  can  not  explain.  It  lies  beyond  us. 
God  inspired  them,  and  he  has  not  seen  fit  to  tell  us  by 
what  machinery,  or  whether  by  any,  he  led  them  to 
know  facts  still  hidden  in  the  dark  bosom  of  a  vailed 
futurity. 

But  there  are  some  expressions  connected  with  this 
subject  which  lead  us  to  suppose  that  God  gave  the 
prophets  a  view — an  eye  vision — of  the  future.  They 
are  sometimes  called  seers.  They  are  said  to  have  had 
visions.  This  indicates  that  their  knowledge  came,  not 
by  hearing,  but  by  sight.  And  it  is  probable  that  God 
spread  out  before  their  eye  a  picture — that  he  painted, 
mapped   futurity  for  them — made  it  pass  before   their 


CHRIST  STRICKEN.  413 

eye ;  and  after  they  knew  his  revelation,  they  wrote  it 
down. 

Isaiah  was  a  see?\  He  had  his  visions  of  futurity.  He 
knew  their  truth.  He  had  visions  of  many  sorts.  And 
you  may  have  noticed,  perhaps,  in  reading  his  prophe- 
cies, how,  when  he  comes  to  any  matter  which  pertains 
to  Christ,  there  are  three  things  which  give  to  his  style  a 
new  cast — a  peculiarity. 

First,  there  is  an  elevation  about  it.  His  mind  rises — 
his  words  rush  like  a  torrent — as  his  language  labors  and 
staggers  under  the  mighty  significance  with  which  it  is 
loaded. 

Second,  there  is  a  clearness  about  it.  It  has  a  splendor 
as  of  the  sun.  He  seems  to  have  stood,  not  in  the  mid- 
night, but  in  the  noonday  of  futurity,  all  the  darkness 
of  coming  centuries  lifted  away. 

Third,  there  is  an  amplification  about  it.  When  the 
prophet  comes  upon  the  time  of  the  Messiah,  he  lingers 
upon  it ;  he  seems  reluctant  to  leave  it.  He  clings  to  it 
with  unwonted  tenacity.  He  can  rush  over  centuries — 
he  can  dispose  of  them  with  a  single  dash  of  his  pen  ;  he 
can  sweep  on  by  kings,  and  crumbling  thrones,  and 
dying  millions,  and  sinking  ages  of  Time's  great  march ; 
but  when  he  comes  down  to  the  period  of  the  Star  in  the 
East,  he  pauses — he  lingers — he  exemplifies — his  mind 
moves  backward  and  forward  from  Bethlehem  to  Cal- 
vary, from  Calvary  back  to  Bethlehem  ;  he  follows  the 
track  of  Christ  and  never  loses  sight  of  him  till  he  is 
laid  in  the  tomb.  And  from  the  spot  of  that  entomb- 
ment he  takes  the  key-note  of  his  song  of  exaltation. 
He  sees  salvation.  He  sees  the  redeemed  church  radiant 
with  glory.  Awahe^  awake^  put  on  thy  strength^  0  Zion ; 
put  on  thy  heautiful  garments,  0  Jerusalem^  the  holy  city. 


414.  CHRIST  STRICKEN". 

.  .  .  Shake  thyself  from  the  dust,  0  Jerusalem ;  hose  thyself 
from  the  bonds  of  thy  neck,  0  caittive  daughter  of  Z ion.  .  .  . 
Break  forth  into  joy^  sing  together^  ye  ivaste  places  of  Jerusa- 
lem, for  the  Lord  hath  comforted  his  people.  .  .  .  Sing^  0 
harren,  break  forth  into  singing.  .  .  .  Enlarge  the  jjlace  of 
thy  tent  and  let  them  stretch  the  curtains  of  thine  habitations. 
Fear  not,  thou  shall  not  be  ashamed,  for  thy  Maker  is  thy 
husband.  The  Lord  of  Hosts  is  his  name ;  and  thy  Re- 
deemer, the  Holy  One  ;  the  Ood  of  the  ivhole  earth  shall  he 
be  called. 

These  are  tlie  prophet's  peculiarities  of  style  as  com- 
pared with  himself,  whenever  he  comes  upon  the  times 
and  trials  of  Christ.  You  may  find  them  all  exemplified 
in  the  connection  of  our  text.  We  can  not  now  examine 
it  for  you.  Take  the  lesson  alone.  Begin  with  the  fifty- 
first  chapter  and  end  with  the  fifty-fifth,  and  you  will 
see  what  we  intend. 

The  text  comes  in  where  the  prophet  comes  to  the 
period  of  Christ;  comes  thus  elevated,  clear  as  the  sun, 
and  disposed  to  linger  on  the  bright  vision — bright  to 
him  and  to  every  redeemed  sinner,  but  dark  and  dread- 
ful to  the  Victim  from  whose  shame  and  throes  and 
tomb  all  this  light  arises,  to  spread  over  time  and  over 
eternity. 

For  the  transgression  of  my  people  was  he  stricken.  Isaiah 
had  seen  it.  God  had  showed  it  to  him  as  he  rolled 
back  the  heavy  midnight  which  lay  upon  slumbering 
centuries.  Hence  his  language  is  that  of  history.  He 
was  stricken.  To  Isaiah  it  was  all  passed,  as  he  turned 
from  his  vision  to  his  pen  and  his  fixith,  and  he  makes 
the  record,  not  as  a  Jew^,  not  as  a  prophet,  not  as  a 
man,  a  being  of  time  simply,  but  as  a  soul  lifted  above 


CHRIST  STRICKEN.  416 

centuries  that  died  at  liis  feet,  as  the  ocean  waves  die  on 
the  shore. 

For  the  transgression  of  my  people  was  he  stricken. 

If  an  ordinary  reader  has  any  doubt  about  the  signifi- 
cance of  this  text,  the  inspired  writer  of  the  Acts  of  the 
Apostles  has  put  it  beyond  all  question.  This  is  the 
place  of  the  Scripture  which  the  Ethiopian  Avas  reading  to 
whom  the  Spirit  sent  Philip.  You  will  find  part  of  the 
seventh  and  eighth  verses  of  this  chapter  quoted  in  the 
eighth  chapter  of  the  Acts.  What  the  Ethiopian  could 
not  understand,  was,  of  whom  Isaiah  was  here  speaking. 
Philip  told  him.  He  hegan  at  the  sarae  Scripture  and 
preached  unto  him  Jesus. 

He  explained  the  whole  passage.  He  showed  the 
fullness  of  salvation  and  the  extension  of  the  Church  in 
gospel  times  promised  in  the  Scriptures  Avhich  the  Ethi- 
opian had  been  reading,  as  in  the  last  verse  of  the  fifty- 
second  chapter :  so  shall  he  sprinkle  many  nations.  This 
made  the  Ethiopian  think  of  professing  his  faith  as  a 
Christian  and  being  baptized,  and  Philip  baptized  him. 

In  the  efScacy  of  Christ's  death  the  Ethiopian  believed. 
It  was  Christ  who  was  stricken. 

For  the  transgression  of  my  people.  This  explanation  is 
very  specific  :  my  people^  not  others,  it  would  seem.  We 
can  not  stop  here  to  unfold  this  idea,  and  explain  how 
general  and  how  limited  was  the  atonement  made  by 
Jesus  Christ  for  sinners.  Conflicts  of  opinion  on  this 
subject  are  easily  reconcilable  to  all  truly  Christian  and 
enlightened  minds.  Every  body  confesses  that  the  ex- 
piation made  by  Christ  for  sinners  was  sufficient  for  the 
whole  world,  if  the  whole  world  would  trust  it  All 
agree,  therefore,  in  the  unbounded  nature  of  the  sacrificial 
ofiering.      Every  body  confesses   that  all   sinners  will 


416  CHRIST   STRICKEN. 

not  be  saved  hy  this  expiation,  and  that,  therefore, 
when  God  laid  on  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all,  his  covenant 
election,  his  determination,  extended  no  further  than  his 
people. 

All  agree,  therefore,  in  the  certain  aim  of  Jehovah  in 
this  transaction. 

Every  body  confesses  that  the  offer  of  Christ  to  sinners 
is  made  freely  in  the  Gospel,  without  money  and  without 
price.  All  agree,  therefore,  in  the  warrant  for  a  sinner's 
faith,  that  sinners  may  take  and  trust  him  if  they 
will.  Every  body  confesses  that  none  of  God's  people 
will  ever  be  saved  by  the  expiation  of  Christ  without  re- 
pentance, faith,  and  hohness.  All  agree,  therefore,  in 
the  necessity  of  personal  religion.  These  are  agreements 
enough. 

If,  on  the  one  hand,  any  believer  chooses  to  look  upon 
the  whole  world  in  view  of  Christ's  death,  and  mourn 
that  so  many  have  trodden  under  foot  his  blood,  and  will 
finally  perish  as  despisers  of  his  grace,  how  shall  we  re- 
prove them  ?  If,  on  the  other  hand,  any  believer  chooses 
to  look  back  upon  the  eternal  covenant  of  grace,  wherein 
Christ's  people  Avere  given  to  him  before  the  foundation  of 
the  world,  and  view  Christ's  death  as  a  fulfilhnent  on  his 
part  of  the  condition  of  the  covenant,  how  shall  we  re- 
prove him  ?  How  shall  these  two  believers  reprove  one 
another  ?  Do  they  not  agree  ?  Or,  if  not,  are  not  those 
points  wherein  they  disagree  points  beyond  the  range 
of  revelation,  and,  therefore,  beyond  the  obligations  of 
faith,  points  to  be  understood  only  when  we  shall  no 
longer  see  as  through  a  glass  darkly,  no  longer  see  in  part 
and  prophesy  in  part. 

My  people:  God  called  the  whole  nation  his  people 
sometimes,  and  whether  he  means  this  here,  or  means 


CHRIST  STRICKEN.  417 

only  those  who  shall  finally  be  his  in  heaven,  the  general 
doctrine  of  the  text  is  not  altered. 

The  doctrine  is  that  of  an  expiation  for  sinners,  made 
by  an  innocent  Yictim  substituted  in  their  place.  He  was 
striclcenfor  them.  He  laid  down  his  life  for  the  sheep.  He 
died  to  redeem  them  that  ivere  under  the  curse.  The  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  were  expiatory  of  sin.  They  were  penal 
sufferings.  Christ  died  not  merely  to  rescue  us  from  the 
ruin  into  which  we  had  fallen,  but  from  the  punishment 
which  we  had  merited.     This  is  the  doctrine  of  the  text. 

The  religion  of  Christianity  consists  very  much  in  be- 
lieving in  and  being  affected  by  the  death  of  Jesus 
Christ  in  a  proper  manner.  Toward  that  one  offering  all 
eyes  ought  to  be  turned.  Toward  it  all  the  prophe- 
cies and  ancient  symbols  look.  There  all  the  promises 
center.  There  hope  begins  for  sinners.  There  God 
meets  them,  his  anger  heing  turned  away  from  them.  It  is 
his  death  that  saves — not  his  life.  Paul  would  preach 
nothing  but  Christ  and  him  CRUCIFIED,  slain  for  us.  Our 
most  solemn  ordinance  memorializes  his  dying.  We 
have  none  to  memorialize  his  birth. 

Indeed,  no  living  man  knows  the  time  of  his  birth. 
History  has  not  preserved  it,  and  God  has  not  told  it. 
It  is  wrapped  in  profound  mystery,  just  as  if  God  would 
hold  our  eyes  steadily  fixed  on  his  death.  And  he  was 
born,  he  became  man,  too,  not  for  the  sake  of  living,  but 
for  the  sake  of  dying,  that  he  might  taste  death  for  every 
man.      —■--■..._ 

We  have  often  been  compelled  to  pause,  and  tremble, 
and  shrink  back,  when  we  have  come  upon  the  borders 
of  this  theme.  It  is  too  mighty.  It  seems  to  lie  beyond 
us.  It  is  the  great  work  of  God  in  redemption,  and  is 
the  mother  of  the  spiritual  faith  and  spiritual  feeling  of 

18* 


418  CHRIST  STRICKEN. 

his  people ;  and  we  know  full  well  tliat  faith  and  feeling 
can  go  beyond  words.  And,  therefore,  we  have  been 
afraid,  painfully  afraid,  that  any  ideas  we  could  utter, 
instead  of  aiding  you,  would  clip  the  wings  of  your  faith 
and  damp  the  ardor  of  your  feelings,  and  hold  you  back 
from  soaring  to  God.  Let  your  hearts  and  your  aids  of 
the  Holy  Spirit,  gained  by  prayer,  compensate  for  the  im- 
perfections of  language  and  our  ideas. 

For  the  transgression  of  my  people  ivas  he  stricken.  In 
the  substitution  of  an  innocent  being  to  suffer  in  the 
room  of  the  guilty,  (and  especially  such  a  Being  as  Jesus 
Christ,)  and  in  pardoning  and  accepting  the  guilty  into 
favor  on  that  account,  there  is  something  which  seems 
to  stagger  the  human  mind.  It  appears  a  departure  from 
all  our  common  ideas  of  j  ustice  and  propriety.  It  ap- 
pears to  set  God  himself  before  us  in  a  character  almost 
the  opposite  of  his  own  declarations,  as  the  friend  of  the 
holy,  and  as  taking  vengeance  upon  the  wicked.  He 
here  seems  to  contradict  himself:  He  punishes  the  inno- 
cent and  lets  the  wicked  go  free.  Not  only  so,  but  the 
innocent  is  a  Divine  Person — the  Eternal  Son  of  God ; 
and  that  He  should  be  the  stricken  sufferer  increases  the 
matter  of  amazement.  Still  further  is  our  wonder  and 
difficulty  of  mind  enhanced  when  this  act  stands  alone — 
when  nothing  else  like  it  is  seen  in  all  the  movements, 
and  all  the  revelations  of  God. 

My  brethren,  we  have  no  disposition  to  diminish  this 
singularity.  It  has  all  the  wonderfulness  you  have  ever 
attributed  to  it.  It  stands  alone.  God  never  did  any 
thing  else  like  it.  Here  we  approach  a  strange  matter. 
And  it  is  no  wonder  that  minds  have  been  staggered 
when  they  have  aimed  to  grapple  with  this  infinite  and 
amazing  revelation. 


CHRIST  STRICKEN.  419 

But  we  certainly  shall  fail  of  the  just  and  real  essence 
of  the  Christian  religion  in  our  hearts,  if  our  hearts 
do  not  have  faith  in  just  this  expiation  ;  "and  if  our 
minds  can  not  compass  the  whole  amazing  matter,  we 
may  hope  at  least  to  have  some  gleams  of  illumination, 
like  the  lightning's  flash  on  the  dark  bosom  of  the  storm. 

Let  us  see : 

I.  The  wonder  of  this  punishment  for  sin  laid  upon  an 
innocent  and  Divine  Being,  accords  with  our  best  con- 
ceptions of  God. 

The  most  just  concej)tions  that  we  ever  have  of  the 
Deity  is  that  of  an  incomprehensible  Being.  He  is  in- 
finite, and  therefore  beyond  mind.  It  is  necessary  to 
conceive  of  him  in  this  manner.  This  is  what  distin- 
guishes our  just  conceptions  of  God  from  our  just  con- 
ceptions of  any  other  beings.  Other  beings  are  limited. 
Our  imagination  can  soon  work  its  way  up  to  the 
boundaries  of  their  strength,  their  wisdom,  their  intelli- 
gence, and  all  there  is  about  them.  God  is  unlimited. 
Far  on  as  our  imagination  may  travel,  it  gets  no  nearer 
to  the  boundaries  of  God.  He  has  none.  At  the  very  last 
stages  we  are  as  far  off  as  when  we  began.  God  does 
not  come  in  to  be  weighed  and  gauged  among  the  analo- 
gies of  his  universe. 

You  perceive  the  conclusion.  The  high  wonder  of 
this  expiation  agrees  with  the  infinitude  of  God.  It  is 
like  him.  He  is  his  own  analogy.  A  suffering  Christ 
is  an  infinite  wonder  ;  and,  therefore,  the  wonder  of  the 
doctrine  of  an  expiation  for  sinners  by  the  sufferings  of 
the  innocent,  instead  of  being  a  reason  for  our  incredulity, 
is  really  a  reason  for  our  faith.  Those  ideas  of  justice 
which  we  have  from  the  legal  transactions  among  men, 


420  CHRIST  STEICKEN. 

among  the  little  and  limited  interests  of  a  contemptible 
world  to  be  burnt  up,  and  among  tlie  relations  soon  to 
sink  down  for  ever  into  the  ocean  bosom  of  eternity, 
have  no  right  to  come  in  as  measure,  and  gauge  and 
limit,  for  the  justice  of  that  High  and  lofty  One  who  in- 
hahiteth  eternity. 

This  expiation  by  the  strichen  victim  has  relation  to 
him.  His  rights  were  violated.  His  justice  must  be 
maintained.  The  interests  of  all  our  eternity  were  per- 
iled.    Our  relations  with  God  himself  were  broken  up. 

As  we  conceive  of  the  power  of  God,  we  are  satisfied 
with  no  limit,  and  no  analogy.  If  we  speak  of  him  as 
laying  the  foundation  of  the  moujitains,  taking  up  the  isles  as 
a  very  little  thing,  or  guiding  Arcturus  and  his  sons,  we 
employ  the  mountains,  the  isles,  and  the  stars,  only  as 
aids  to  our  feeble  conceptions,  as  stepping-stones  to  help 
us  on.  They  are  not  the  measure  of  God's  might.  It 
has  no  measure.  It  has  no  resemblance.  God's  will  is 
his  power.  He  can  work  without  means,  and  do  one 
thing  just  as  easily  as  he  does  another. 

As  we  conceive  of  God's  intelligence  we  are  satisfied 
with  no  limit,  and  no  analogy.  He  reads  hearts.  He 
knows  all  things  at  once.  He  knows  them  without 
means.  He  never  studies,  never  reasons,  never  employs 
one  thing  to  aid  him  on  to  another.  By  direct  inspec- 
tion he  sees  into  all  things;  yea,  indeed,  he  knows  all 
things,  without  inspection,  by  the  eternal  models  of  them 
existing  for  ever  in  the  purposes  of  his  own  mind. 

As  we  conceive  of  God's  presence,  we  are  satisfied  with 
no  limit,  and  no  analogy.  He  does  not  move  from 
one  place  to  another.  He  fills  immensity  with  his  pres- 
ence. If  we  ascend  iq^  into  heaven,  he  is  there  ;  if  we  make 
OUT  hed  in  hell,  he  is  there. 


CHRIST   STRICKEN.  421 

As  we  conceive  of  God's  existence^  we  are  satisfied  with 
no  limit  and  no  analogy.  He  did  not  begin  to  exist  like 
every  thing  else.  Eternity  is  his  life-time.  Centuries  die 
at  his  feet,  to  him  just  the  same  as  vanishing  moments. 
With  him  one  day  is  as  a  thousand  years^  and  a  thousand 
years  as  one  day. 

Such  is  God  in  all  things.  It  may  be  difficult  for  our 
minds  to  take  in  these  conceptions,  but  we  can  have  no 
just  idea  of  God  without  them.  He  is  his  own  analogy 
— QYQTj  where  infinite,  and  every  where  beyond  com- 
parison. 

And  now,  when  we  are  called  upon  to  view  him  and 
trust  him  in.  the  matter  of  saving  his  people,  we  have 
but  to  give  him  his  own  high  place,  and  let  him  be  God, 
without  limit  and  without  resemblance.  Glory  to  him 
that  he  is  so.  The  innocence  of  the  Victim,  and  the  per- 
son of  the  Victim,  and  the  expiation  of  the  Victim,  all 
accord  with  the  incomprehensible  God.  Great  is  the 
mystery  of  Godliness — God  manifest  in  the  flesh,  seen  of 
men,  believed  on  in  the  world^  received  up  into  glory.  The 
expiatory  suffering,  named  in  the  text,  accord  with  all 
just  conceptions  of  God.  Beyond  us,  and  peculiar  in 
every  thing  else,  he  is  beyond  us  and  peculiar  in  the 
great  atonement. 

II.  Our  God  has  different  modes  of  giving  intimations 
of  himself  We  can  not  learn  all  that  we  are  able  to 
know  of  him  in  any  one  spot,  or  by  any  one  transaction. 
To  lead  us  on  he  has  employed  grades,  and  built  one 
scaffolding  above  another,  (some  of  them  yet  to  be 
knocked  down  and  burnt  up  as  rubbish.)  There  is  mat- 
ter which  came  from  nothing  at  his  bidding;  and  in  this 
world,  where  his  winds  howl,  and  his  flowerets  blush, 


422  CHRIST  STRICKEN. 

and  his  snows  sleep  in  their  white,  we  may  learn  some- 
thing of  his  control  over  matter.  We  may  lift  our  eyes 
beyond  this  world,  and  as  we  look  out  upon  the  planets' 
blaze,  and  the  planets'  march — on  Mazzaroth,  and  Arc- 
turus,  and  Pleiads,  we  may  add  to  our  knowledge  of 
God's  government  over  material  things  as  we  w^alk  along 
that  pavement  of  sapphire,  studded  with  the  diamonds 
of  his  morning  stars. 

Beyond  this  mere  matter  there  is  mind.  The  kingdom 
of  intelligence  is  more  glorious  than  the  kingdom  of 
matter.  Keason,  memory,  taste,  imagination — that  mys- 
terious thing  which  we  call  mind — here  is  something 
wherein  God  takes  another  step,  and  gives  another  inti- 
mation of  himself.  The  study  of  his  wisdom  may  last  us 
for  ever. 

Beyond  mere  intelligence  there  is  a  kingdom  of  sensi- 
hiliiies.  The  affections — love,  hate,  enmity,  grief,  hope, 
joy— what  indescribable  wonders  do  these  words  sug- 
gest! Here  is  another  leaf  of  God's  endless  book — 
another  stepping-stone  to  aid  our  conceptions  of  him. 

Still  beyond,  there  is  a  moral  kingdom.  Intelligence 
and  sensibility  both  belong  to  it,  and  come  into  myste- 
rious play  when  the  moral  feelings  mingle  with  them.  In 
this  moral  kingdom,  wherein,  by  conscience,  convictions, 
and  moral  sensibilities,  the  creature  carries  along  with 
him  the  machinery  for  his  felicity  or  his  woe,  we  have 
another  intimation  about  God.  Angels  that  excel  in 
strength^  fallen  spirits  reserved  under  chains  of  darkness, 
belong  to  this  moral  world — a  world  of  wonders. 

The  world  of  grace  has  still  higher.  Eedemption — 
the  salvation  of  sinners — is  not  a  matter  of  mere  crea- 
tion, or  mere  government,  or  recovery  from  ruin 
merely ;  it  is  a  matter  of  mercy  to  the  sinning  and  the 


CHRIST  STRICKEN.  423 

punishment  of  sin.  This  matter  evidently  lies  beyond 
all  others. 

And  now,  when  we  have  such  a  matter,  and  when  all 
along,  in  the  fields  of  materialities,  and  intelligence,  and 
sensibilities,  and  moral  nature,  we  have  seen  God  rising 
higher  and  higher  out  of  our  sight,  and  wrapping  him- 
self round  with  clouds  which  our  ejQ  can  not  penetrate, 
have  we  not  reason  to  rejoice  that  in  this  last  field  of 
God  Almighty,  where  sin  is  punished  and  sinners  are 
saved,  there  is  just  the  carrying  out  of  the  systems  we 
have  seen  all  along  ?  We  see  God  making  good  his  own 
analogies.  They  demanded,  not  resemblances  in  the 
things  themselves,  but  a  perpetual  gradation.  Mind  is  not 
like  matter.  Sensibility  is  not  like  cold  intellect.  Con- 
science takes  hold  on  the  soul  with  a  strength  of  its  own. 
And  forgiveness  of  sinners,  while  sin  is  punished,  is 
another  step.  And  shall  we  refuse  to  take  it  ?  I  mean, 
rather,  shall  we  refuse  to  let  God  take  it  and  let  our 
faith  follow  him  ?  Stricken  for  my  j^eojAe  is  just  the 
amazing  thing  which  the  rising  gradations  of  God  de- 
mand. Matter,  mind,  sensibility,  conscience,  pardon, 
will  surely  allow  us  to  go  on  to  atonement  and  glory. 
We  must  not  limit  the  Holy  One  of  Israel.  The  suffering 
of  a  Being,  innocent  in  himself  and  infinite  in  his  mys- 
terious person,  agrees  with  the  analogies  of  God. 

And  even  if  you  take  any  one  field  of  God's  works, 
you  may  find  there  a  similar  invitation  to  an  adoring 
faith  in  the  atonement  made  by  stricken  Innocence. 
What  does  our  unbelief  in  such  an  atonement  demand  ? 
What  are  its  difficulties  ?  Does  it  not  demand  of  God 
that  he  shall  stop  before  he  has  acted  on  a  field  where 
our  limited  intellect  can  not  comprehend  hiin  ?  As  he 
works,  unbelief  does   not   lay  hold  on  his  skirts  to  be 


424  CHRIST  STEICKEN. 

lifted,  but  to  draw  him  back ;  and  refuse  to  let  bim  go 
beyond  ns,  and  have  a  field  where  the  blaze  of  bis  glory 
shall  dazzle  the  eye  of  his  insignificant  creature !  We 
should  not  venture  such  an  action  on  any  other  theater 
of  God's  working. 

When  the  keen  eye  of  modern  Science  has  traveled 
out  to  the  utmost  verge  of  visible  things ;  and  the  rapt 
astronomer  fixes  his  gaze  on  the  last  star  his  glass  can 
reach;  and  beyond  all  is  blank — an  infinite  vault  of 
space — an  unbounded  ocean,  where,  to  his  eye,  no  sun  or 
comet  sails — no  matter  sleeps — no  being  moves  ;  shall  he 
stand  there,  and  while  rapt  in  amazement  at  the  myriads 
of  worlds,  and  suns,  and  systems  he  has  passed,  shall  he 
afiirm  there  is  none  beyond — that  he  has  reached  the  end 
of  the  march  of  God  Almighty  ?  Shall  he  not  rather  look 
back  on  the  amazing  worlds  he  has  passed,  and  call  up 
their  eternal  arithmetic  to  make  him  believe  that  he  has  not 
compassed  the  Eternal  yet  ?  that  out  beyond  him,  deep  in 
unfathomable  space,  other  worlds  may  wheel,  and  other 
suns  burn,  and  other  creatures  move,  by  the  will  of  the 
living  and  self-existent  God  ?  And,  when  all  along  he 
has  seen  variety  giving  glory  to  uniformity — when  the 
moons  of  Jupiter  are  more  than  our  own,  and  the  belts 
of  glory  around  Saturn  give  him  such  an  unequaled 
evening  sky — shall  he  not  be  prepared  to  believe  that 
in  the  far  higher  fields  of  a  moral  gloty  there  is  some- 
thing which  no  analogy  has  touched,  except  the  analo- 
gies of  God ;  some  spot  wearing  the  high  imprint  of 
God's  peculiar  hand  ;  some  place,  field  or  system,  where 
mortal  knowledge  must  give  place  to  immortal  amaze- 
ment and  adoration  ?  That  place  is  Calvary — that  field 
is  the  Church — that  system  is  salvation  for  sinners 
through  the   sufferings  of  a  stricken  substitute.      God, 


CHRIST  STRICKEN.  425 

that  smote  him,  herein  goes  beyond  man,  out  of  our 
sight,  and  calls  on  faith  to  follow  him.  This  is  the 
height  of  his  adorable  wonders — the  place  where  he  is 
like  himself — the  peculiarity  and  the  last  step  of  an  as- 
cending series.  One  star  differ eth  from  another  star  in 
glory  ;  but  the  Star  of  Bethlehem  outshines  them  all — and 
shall  shine  in  the  skies  of  eternity  when  other  stars 
have  gone  out. 

III.  The  mystery,  the  wonder  of  this  redemption  of 
sinners,  by  stripes  laid  on  Christ,  accords  with  us,  as  well 
as  it  accords  with  God. 

We  are  sinners.  See  what  sin  hath  done.  Some 
symbols  of  its  mischief  are  visible.  It  blasted  paradise ! 
It  fell  on  the  cursed  earth  !  It  forged  swords  for  battle ! 
It  hath  sprinkled  tears  all  over  this  world!  It  hath 
plunged  the  daggers  of  grief  deep  into  every  heart !  It 
hath  spread  death-beds,  and  built  coffins,  and  dug  graves ! 
And  these  are  only  symbols  of  its  dreadfulness.  That 
want,  that  deep  want  in  the  human  soul,  of  some  hold 
on  God,  some  feeling  of  security  as  we  stand  amid  tears 
and  tombs  here,  and  look  out  into  the  midnight  of 
another  world,  goes  beyond  these  symbols.  Oh  !  if  we 
could  have  that  hold  on  God,  we  could  die  a  thousand 
deaths,  after  wiping  the  death-sweat  from  the  brow  of 
our  last  friend !  And  this  feeling  of  human  want 
reaches  its  last  anguish  when  conscience  is  whetted  into 
its  keenness,  and  our  poor  soul  sees  it  is  justly  cut  off 
from  God  and  worthy  of  his  indignation !  Sin  has 
broken  up  our  relations  luith  Him.  Our  Creator,  our 
final  Judge,  is  against  us !  Ko  earthly  offending  can 
compare  with  this.  The  law  which  sin  has  broken  is 
God's  law — the  law  for  the  immortal  spirit — the  law  for 


426  CHEIST   STRICKEN. 

eternity  to  come!  Eternity!  Oh,  eternity!  mind  stag- 
gers under  tlie  weight  of  that  idea.  To  last  on  for  ever — 
and  last  a  sinner,  cut  off  from  God,  and  no  more  at 
peace  with  myself  than  with  him — to  feel  eternally  the 
gnawings  of  the  worm  that  dieth  not  and  the  wrath  of 
God  !  Sooner  come  annihilation  !  A  thousand-fold 
sooner  let  God  lift  up  his  hand  upon  me  and  extinguish 
my  existence  for  ever ! 

ISTow,  in  the  presence  of  these  symbols,  these  wants, 
this  sin  which  has  no  analog}^,  which  has  broken  up  our 
peace-relations  with  God,  this  conscience,  these  agonies 
of  a  fearing  spirit,  and  this  dreadful  eternity — what  shall 
be  done?  What  shall  God  do  for  us?  What  do  we 
want  him  to  do.  Want  him  to  do  ?  Just  what  he  has 
done.  We  want  him  to  meet  our  infinite  fears  with  his 
infinite  offers.  To  meet  our  worst  woes  with  his  in- 
effable grace.  We  want  him  to  show  us  while  we  stand 
trembling  before  his  justice,  that  something  has  been 
done  which  that  justice  can  not  find  fault  with — some- 
thing which  can  cope  with  all  the  malignities  of  sin — 
something  which  shall  wave  the  peace-branch  over  the 
door  into  eternity  !  He  has  done  it.  It  is  his  own 
work,  on  his  own  authority,  like  him,  and  just  because  it 
has  such  wonders  about  it  as  the  innocence  and  the 
mysterious  person  of  a  suffering  Christ,  our  faith  can 
trust  it.  Where  we  most  fear,  God  is  most  wonderful. 
The  excellence  and  the  innocence  of  the  sacrifice  as  the 
ground  of  our  peace,  show  us  that  the  august  redemption 
perfectly  assorts  with  the  ineffable  woes  and  wants  of 
our  sinful  condition. 

But  we  must  leave  this  matter  of  argument.  Other 
items  may  come  up,  if  God  will,  at  another  time. 

For  the  transgression  of  my  people  was  he  stricken.     Here- 


CHRIST  STRICKEN. 


427 


in  God  was  more  wonderful  and  mysterious  than  com- 
prehensible.  The  uses  we  ought  to  make  of  this  subject 
are  not  triviaL 

There  are  those  who  have  no  living  faith  in  this  atone- 
ment, and  who  will  not  come  to  the  memorial  of  it  this 
afternoon.  Why?  Simply  because  of  two  things — 
things  more  of  heart  than  of  the  understanding :  First, 
they  have  low  and  groveling  ideas  of  God — ideas  very 
much  confined  to  his  earthly  things,  and  his  natural 
attributes.  They  can  think  of  his  power,  and  see  it  in 
the  everlasting  hills.  They  can  talk  of  his  wisdom,  and 
think  they  are  talking  very  well  about  it  when  they  un- 
fold the  sciences  and  laws  which  belong  to  this  material 
earth  and  the  material  heavens !  Poor  fools !  This  is 
only  the  beginning!  not  the  beginning — it  is  only  an 
emblem,  a  dim  symbol,  a  shadow  !  This  earth  shall  be 
burnt  up.  The  time  hastens  when  these  heavens  shall 
be  no  more.  God  shall  create  a  new  heaven  and  a 
new  earth,  ivherein  dwelleth  righteousness.  In  righteous- 
ness, in  his  moral  and  spiritual  kingdom,  in  his  glory  and 
honor ;  and  if  depraved  souls  were  not  so  earth-bound 
and  groveling,  their  ideas  would  be  absorbed  in  the 
moral  excellences  of  God,  and  move  first  toward  the 
issues  of  a  coming  eternity.  They  would  seek  first  the 
kingdom  of  God.  They  would  let  go  of  earth ;  they 
would  let  the  sun  and  stars  go  out ;  they  would  reach 
forth  toward  a  sjDiritual  God  and  a  spiritual  eternity — the 
hope  and  the  home  for  the  soul ! 

The  other  reason  is,  that  they  do  not  justly  realize 
their  condition  and  necessities  as  sinners.  If  men  have 
inadequate  notions  of  God,  they  Vvdll  have  inadequate 
notions  of  sin.  If  they  have  inadequate  notions  of  sin, 
they  will  have  inadequate  notions  of  Christ ;  and  then 


428  CHRIST  STRICKEN. 

there  will  be  nothing  seen  in  their  condition  to  drive 
them,  and  nothing  in  his  character  to  draiv  them,  to  his 
infinite  sacrifice.  Oh,  if  they  had  anything  like  a  just 
idea  of  what  it  is  to  be  a  sinner,  they  would  look  to  the 
sacrifice  of  Christ  with  amazing  gladness  and  gratitude  ! 
If  they  did  not  feel  that  they  might  come  to  his  table, 
they  would  get  as  near  as  they  could,  and  look  on,  and 
wonder,  and  wish,  and  pray !  But  they  are  ignorant  of 
both  God  and  themselves ;  and,  therefore,  are  not  con- 
strained toward  the  best  thing  that  God  has  to  give  them 
— an  interest  in  the  blood  of  his  Son !  When  that  Son 
shall  have  made  wp  his  jewels  he  will  say  to  these  grovel- 
ing and  unawakened  souls :  Behold,  ye  despisers,  and  icon- 
der,  and  perish. 

Pause,  pause  sinner,  tread  not  under  foot  that  blood ! 
that  blood  1  This  is  the  height  of  all  God's  wonders ! 
It  comes  toward  the  depths  of  all  your  wants  and  woes. 
It  offers  you  life  and  immortality.  God's  very  heart,  his 
heart  of  kindness  and  love,  has  embarked  in  it ;  and  if,  as 
^''ou  stand  before  death's  door,  and  trembling  before  God's 
thunders,  you  reject  this  Christ,  it  had  been  better  for  you 
if  you  had  never  been  born  !  Repent,  flee  to  Christ,  and 
live !  Flee  now^  while  that  throne  is  a  ilirone  of  grace. 
It  shall  soon  be  taken  down,  and  God  will  rear  the 
throne  of  eternal  judgment !  There  you  stand !  time 
gone  !  the  world  gone  !  communion-tables  gone !  How 
will  you  answer  it  to  him  then,  that  you  are  not  at  his 
table  to-day  ? 

But  the  tenderness  of  this  subject  to  believers  is  as  re- 
markable as  its  terror  to  unbelievers.  For  the  transgress- 
ion of  my  people  ivas  he  stricken.  This  was  the  great 
wonder  of  God!  an  adorable  wonder  1  The  Victim! 
Oh,  the  amazing  Victim !     Jesus  Christ  was  not  a  mere 


CHRIST  STRICKEN.  429 

man.  Kor  was  he  an  angel.  He  is  the  Son  of  God  who 
thought  it  not  robbery  to  be  equal  with  God.  He  is  the  bright- 
ness of  the  Father's  glory ^  and  the  express  image  of  his  person. 
He  upholdeth  all  things  by  the  word  of  his  power.  When 
he  came  into  the  world,  God  said,  Let  all  the  angels  of  Ood 
worship  him.  Isaiah  calls  him  the  mighty  God.  The 
Psalmist  rendered  him  the  homage  of  adoration,  when  he 
exclaimed :  Thy  throne,  0  God,  is  for  ever  and  ever ;  a 
scepter  of  righteousness  is  the  scepter  of  thy  kingdom.  Thou^ 
Lord,  in  the  beginning  hast  laid  the  foundation  of  the  earthy 
and  the  heavens  are  the  icorks  of  thy  hands.  This  adorable 
Being  became  a  man — a  poor  man — he  had  not  where  to 
lay  his  head — a  man  of  sorrows  and  acquainted  with  grief. 
In  the  agony  of  the  garden,  when  his  soul  was  buffeting 
the  billows,  he  sweat  as  it  ivere  great  dropjs  of  blood  falling 
down  to  the  ground.  On  the  cross  he  uttered  such  a  death- 
wail  as  never  burst  from  other  dying  lips.  My  God,  my 
Ood^  why  hast  thou  forsaken  me! 

Believer,  you  know  what  all  this  was  for.  And  now 
I  want  to  ask  you  some  questions.  When  you  think  of 
God,  of  the  greatness  of  his  works,  of  his  ten  thousand 
worlds,  of  his  infinite  majesty,  will  you  ever  be  afraid 
any  more  that  he  will  not  care  for  you  and  condescend 
to  your  littleness  ?  Will  you  ever  hesitate  to  tell  him 
your  fears,  your  wants,  your  heart's  hidden  anguish,  and 
to  expect  him  to  lend  his  ear  to  your  suppliant  cry  ? 
Will  you  ever  hesitate  to  di-aio  near  to  him  and  lean 
upon  his  bosom,  and  pour  your  tears  of  mingled  peni- 
tence and  love  at  his  feet  ?  Oh,  remember,  this  wonder 
of  God  in  the  atonement,  this  greatest  of  his  wonders, 
this  wonder  which  reaches  beyond  all  the  exhibits  of 
him  in  matter,  in  mind,  in  feeling,  in  morals — this  won- 
der was  wrought  just  for  you — for  you,  a  poor  sinner,  and 


430  CHKIST  STEICKEN. 

cliild  of  the  dust  I  It  is  the  majesty  of  God  which  sweeps 
down  to  you.  Will  you  ever  doubt  any  more,  and  hold 
back  your  heart,  since  such  a  Friend  has  died  for  you, 
and  your  grace  and  salvation  is  God's  highest  glory  ? 

At  the  table  of  the  covenant  you  may  call  up  all  your 
sins,  all  your  unworthiness,  all  your  worldliness  and 
pride  and  obstinacy,  and  repent  over  them  in  hope.  Your 
transgressions,  what  numbers  of  them  come  floating  over 
your  memory !  what  wanderings  from  God  !  what  world- 
liness !  what  pride  and  selfishness  and  vanity !  what  in- 
gratitude !  what  unbelief!  But  they  can  not  cut  you  off 
from  God!  For  the  transgression  of  my  people  luas  he 
stricken.  If  you  feel  yourself  that  poor  and  unworthy 
sinner,  to  forgive  whom  and  commune  with  Avhom 
would  be  one  of  God's  most  amazing  wonders,  you  are 
the  verj^  communicant  whom  he  will  take  into  covenant 
with  himself.  Your  unworthiness  is  the  very  plea  that 
his  stooping  majesty  wants  from  your  lips.  Believe, 
adore,  and  wonder  and  love. 

But  you  can  not  be  here  always.  Your  race  is  partly 
run.  And  if,  as  you  look  forward  toward  the  swellings  of 
Jordan,  nature  trembles,  and  you  feel  that  it  is  no  small 
matter  to  meet  that  conflict,  the  nature  of  our  subject 
assorts  with  your  necessity.  You  do  want  much :  dying 
is  no  trifle.  But  you  can  not  want  more  than  Christ  has 
to  give  you.  Fear  not,  thou  worm  Jacob/  When  thou 
passest  through  the  waters  I  will  be  with  thee;  and  through 
the  rivers,  they  shall  not  overflow  thee  ;  when  thou  ivalkest 
through  the  fire  thou  shall  not  be  burnt.  The  wonders  of 
Christ's  death  meet  all  the  wants  and  wonders  of  your 
own  dying. 

You  will  aim  to  feel  this  this  afternoon  at  his  table. 
Not  this  only.     From   these   hights  of  privilege,  you 


CHRIST   STRICKEN.  431 

may  look  forward  to  something  more  glorious.  Jesus 
Christ,  in  the  end,  will  be  the  great  wisdom  of  God,  and  in 
the  brightness  of  his  coming  indicate  the  gloom  of  his 
crucifixion.  Every  eye  shall  see  him.  Behold,  he  cometh  in 
the  clouds  of  heaven.  See  his  retinue!  See  those  ten 
thousand  times  teii  thousand  that  stand  before  him!  See 
those  twenty  thousand  chariots  of  the  Lord!  The  dead 
raised.  Lift  up  your  heads^  ye  saints,  your  redemjiition 
draweth  near.  When  he  who  is  your  life  shall  appear,  then 
shall  ye  also  appear  with  him  in  glory.  Ye  shall  he  changed 
into  the  same  image  from  glory  to  glory.  Ye  shall  he  like  him, 
for  ye  shall  see  him  as  he  is.  And  now,  caught  up  to  be 
ever  with  the  Lord;  entering  that  house  of  many  mansions, 
you  will  have  not  the  faith,  but  the  eternal  demonstra- 
tion, that  Christ  being  stricken  for  the  transgression  of  his 
people,  assorts  both  with  your  blessedness  and  with  the 
wonderful  glory  of  God.  For  j^ou  shall  love  him  for 
ever,  and  be  Uke  him  for  ever :  and  you  shall  hear  the  voice 
of  many  angels  round  about  the  throne,  and  the  elders,  and 
the  number  of  them  ten  thousand  times  ten  thousand,  and 
thousands  of  thousands,  singing  with  a  loud  voice,  Worthy  is 
the  Lamb  that  WAS  SLAIN,  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and 
wisdom,  and  strength,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  blessing. 
And  every  creature  which  is  in  heaven  will  be  heard  say- 
ing. Blessing,  and  honor,  and  glory,  and  power  be  unto  him 
that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  unto  the  Lamb  for  ever.  It 
is  enough  for  our  fall  faith :  the  glory  of  redemption  is 
the  glory  of  heaven !  Who  can  despair  ?  what  sinner 
can  refuse  to  believe,  and  repent  and  love?  For  the 
transgression  of  my  people  was  he  stricheyi. 


[SACRAMENTAL.] 

He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son,  but  freely  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how 
shall  he  not  with  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  ? — Eomans,  viii.  32. 

TN  general,  the  Gospel  founds  its  encouragements  for 
believers  and  for  nnbelievers  on  precisely  the  same 
platform.  There  is  scarcely  a  particle  of  difference. 
Saint  or  sinner,  the  same  doctrines  are  rung  in  his  ears. 
Saint  or  sinner,  the  same  invitations  are  poured  round 
his  heart.  Believer  or  unbeliever,  the  same  great  atone- 
ment is  held  up  before  his  eye.  Hearts,  all  hearts  are 
expected  to  be  influenced  by  precisely  the  same  an- 
nouncements, and  they  have  the  offer  of  precisely  the 
same  Christ,  in  the  same  way  and  for  the  same  purpose. 
This  afternoon  there  will  not  be  an  unbeliever  away 
from  the  communion  who  is  compelled  to  be.  Every 
one  of  them  has  precisely  the  same  offers  as  the  children 
of  God.  Every  one  of  them  has  precisely  the  same 
promises.  They  will  turn  their  back  upon  the  Lord's 
table  for  no  other  reason  than  their  unbelief  in  God's 
love  and  in  his  Son.  All  there  is  wanting,  all  God 
demands  of  them,  all  they  need  do  to  annihilate  the  dis- 
tance between  themselves  and  the  children  of  God,  is 
just  to  close  in  with  God's  offers  in  faith,  and  let  that 


CHRIST  DELIVERED   UP.  433 

faith  in  Christ  which  justifies  them  conduct  them  at  once 
to  holiness  and  to  the  comforts  of  hope. 

On  the  other  hand,  no  behever,  in  this  wilderness  of 
his  pilgrimage,  ever  arrives  at  such  a  state  as  not  to  need 
precisely  the  same  considerations  which  God  addresses  to 
unbelievers.  His  faith  is  demanded  the  same  as  theirs ; 
his  love,  his  penitence,  his  whole  heart.  His  hope  and 
his  holiness  are  to  grow  bj  the  embracing  acts  bj  which 
they  commenced  at  first.  He  is  just  to  embrace  Jesus 
Christ  for  his  own  ;  and  there  is  not  a  sinner  who  hears 
me,  now  in  the  high  road  of  his  rebellion,  his  face  set  to- 
ward hell,  who  has  not  precisely  the  same  privilege. 

The  argument  of  the  text,  therefore,  which  we  shall 
attempt  to  unfold,  is  just  as  much  addressed  to  unbeliev- 
ing hearts  as  to  believing  ones.  The  unbelieving  will 
reject  it.  They  cast  it  off  from  them.  They  do  not  want 
it.  If  they  have  any  anticipations  about  religion  at  all, 
they  propose  to  themselves  some  other  starting-point  in 
the  race  of  salvation  than  just  beginning  by  faith  in  the 
things  which  God  hath  done  to  save  them.  But  be- 
lievers will  be  as  likely  to  welcome  the  argument  as  un- 
believers to  reject  it. 

I.  Let  us  look  at  the  nature  of  the  argument. 

II.  Let  us  examine  some  of  the  particulars  embraced 
in  the  grounds  of  it. 

III.  Let  us  take  the  encouragement  of  its  conclusion. 

I.  The  nature  of  this  argument  is  very  simple.  It  is 
addressed  to  believers,  and  designed  to  meet  the  discour- 
agements which  so  often  assail  them.  These  discourage- 
ments are  numerous ;  and,  as  one  after  another  comes 
up,  either  in  fact  or  amid  the  expectations  of  fear,  it 
often  happens  that  the  believer's  heart  becomes  the  seat 

19 


434  CHKIST  DELIVERED   UP. 

of  sadnesses  whicli  have  no  parallel  and  admit  of  no  de- 
scription. Some  of  you  understand  tliem  very  well.  You 
have  known  w^hat  it  is  to  walk  in  dark  places.  Your 
light  has  sometimes  forsaken  you.  You  have  questioned 
whether  it  were  possible  that  Grod  should  deal  with  any 
one  he  loves  as  he  hath  dealt  with  you ;  and  your  de- 
sponding temper  employed  the  darkness  without  you  to 
j)ut  away  the  last  ray  of  hope  that  cheered  the  heart 
within  you.  Sometimes  you  have  been  cast  down  under 
an  oppressive  sense  of  the  Divine  justice ;  and  the  more 
clear  were  the  views  you  had  of  God,  the  more  you 
thought  that  his  character  was  all  embarked  against  you. 
Your  sin,  your  unworthiness,  the  trials  before  you,  your 
coming  death  and  the  judgment  beyond  it,  have  cast  a 
melancholy  over  your  contemplations,  and  your  heart 
has  bled  under  the  anguish  of  your  conclusion  that  you 
knew  not,  after  all,  whether  he  cared  for  you  or  what 
should  become  you. 

In  reference  to  all  such  ideas,  the  argument  of  the  text 
is  constructed.  The  Apostle  knew,  as  well  as  you  do,  the 
difficulties  we  have  to  contend  with.  In  this  chapter  he 
mentions  some  of  them:  Condemnation,  the  law  of  sin  and 
death^  the  sufferings  of  the  present  time,  the  bondage  of  cor- 
Tuption,  groaning  within  ourselves.  And  then  he  turns, 
(just  as  a  believer  must,  if  he  would  not  sink  into  a  use- 
less despair),  simply  to  his  God.  If  Ood  he  for  iis^  who  can 
he  against  us  f  He  that  spared  not  his  own  Son^  hut  freely 
delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  how  shall  he  not  with  him  also 
freely  give  us  all  things  f  We  are  going  to  want  many 
things.  We  scarcely  know  how  much.  Between  us  and 
heaven  lie  many  trials,  it  may  be,  and  we  can  not  come 
up  to  the  solemn  revelations  of  the  final  judgment  with- 
out battling  the  dark  billows  of  death  ?     But  now  our 


CHRIST    DELIVERED   UP.  435 

discouragement  may  give  place  to  hope,  and  our  distrust 
may  yield  to  faith,  if  we  can  but  see  clearly  that  our 
God  hath  already  done  for  us  more  than  all  that  which 
we  hereafter  can  need.  He  hath  done  it.  He  hath  given  ^ 
us  his  Son.  This  is  the  greater  gift.  All  else  we  can 
want  bears  no  comparison  with  this.  If  we  have  accepted 
this  gift,  and  doing  so  have  conspired  with  God  in  his 
designs ;  if  we  have  received  at  his  hand  already  a  bene- 
faction, which  swells  beyond  the  measure  of  all  other 
benefactions,  on  what  principle  is  it  that  God  can  ever 
refuse  to  us  any  thing  or  all  things  ?  Since  he  hath  done 
for  our  salvation  such  a  work,  and  since  we  have  com- 
menced our  march  at  his  call ;  since  he  hath  already  done 
more  than  now  remains  to  be  done,  will  he  give  us  up 
and  let  us  perish  when  we  need  only  some  minor  bene- 
factions to  secure  us  as  the  trophies  of  his  own  glorious 
work  ?  It  can  not  be.  "We  know  of  no  principle  on 
which  God  can  act,  we  can  conceive  of  none,  which 
should  prompt  him  now  to  refuse  a  believer  the  benefits 
he  needs. 

If  you  were  a  culprit  in  prison,  and  the  clemency  of 
legal  authority  should  pity  your  confined  and  enfeebled 
condition,  and  pronounce  your  pardon,  and  the  messen- 
ger who  brought  it  to  your  cell  should  find  you  a  cripple 
and  unable  to  go  out  through  the  opened  door  of  your 
prison-house,  would  you  not  expect  that  the  same  clem- 
ency which  had  flung  it  open  for  your  going  forth  to  the 
free  air  of  heaven,  would  also  reach  its  aid  to  the  crippled 
limbs  whose  misery  moved  the  compassion  which  par- 
doned you  ?  If  it  would  farnish  no  such  aid,  on  your 
bed  of  straw  and  musing  upon  your  crippled  limbs  as 
you  lifted  your  hopeless  eye  to  the  opened  door^  you 
would  execrate  the  mis-named  mercy  that  had  pardoned 


436  CHRIST    DELIVERED    UP. 

you  1  you  would  say  there  was  no  mercy  about  it !  you 
would  ask,  Wliy  torment  me  with  an  offer  impossible  for 
me  to  accept  ?  There  is  a  Holy  Spirit  for  you  as  well 
a  crucified  Christ. 

If  you  were  an  undutiful  son,  whose  extravagance  and 
profligacy  had  plunged  you  into  misery  and  want,  and 
the  fatherly  affection  which  you  had  abused  should  fol- 
low you  still,  and  the  strength  of  that  affection  should 
not  only  send  you  a  message  of  forgiveness,  but  should 
prompt  your  offended  father  to  sacrifice  the  most  valu- 
able of  his  possessions  to  relieve  you  from  the  debts  of 
your  profligacy,  that  you  might  be  free  and  return  to 
him,  could  you  have  any  thought  that  the  same  affection, 
when  you  wished  to  return,  and  when  you  had  worked 
your  way  back  to  the  door  of  the  paternal  mansion 
and  stood  there  in  want — could  you  ever  think  that 
same  affection  would  refuse  a  morsel  of  bread  to  your 
hungry  lips  ?  This  is  the  nature  of  the  argument.  It 
proceeds  on  what  Grod  hath  done — on  the  ground  that 
he  hath  done  the  most  wonderful  thing  which  needs  to 
be  done,  and  on  that  account  there  is  the  most  abundant 
reason  to  trust  him  for  all  the  rest. 

II.  Let  us  look  at  some  of  the  particulars  embraced 
in  this  argument.  Take  them  iii  the  exact  order  of  the 
text: 

1.  He  that  spared  not  Ms  oiun  Son,  It  was  God  whose 
benevolence  originated  the  gift  made  to  us.  It  was  God, 
acting  beyond  all  his  other  works — beyond  all  nature — in 
a  new  way — in  his  redeeming  work — beyond  aU  his  crea- 
tion and  common  providences.  If  the  plan  and  foundation 
of  our  salvation  had  their  origin  any  where  else,  they 
would  be  very  different  to  us.     We  could  exhaust  a  crea- 


CHRIST  DELIVERED   UP.  437 

ture.  "We  could  exhaust  an  angel.  A  moment  ago,  wlien 
I  was  speakiDg  of  the  pardoned  prisoner  and  the  profligate 
son,  some  of  you  felt  the  failure  of  the  figure.  You  real- 
ized its  feebleness :  you  did  right.  "We  do  want  something 
of  God  which  can  not  be  suitably  imaged  by  all  the  clem- 
ency and  power  of  his  creatures.  If  I  could  trust  his 
creatures  under  such  circumstances  of  imprisonment  and 
profligacy,  it  would  be  but  a  faint  image  of  what  it  means, 
to  trust  my  God.  As  a  sinner,  I  can  hardly  conceive  of  p 
the  extent  of  my  wants.  I  have  offended  God.  I  have 
done  the  worst  thing  I  could  do.  I  may  not,  indeed, 
have  reached  the  highest  degree  of  crime  possible  for 
me,  but  it  would  have  been  impossible  for  me  to  do  a 
worse  thing  than  offend  God.  My  sin  hath  broken  his 
law,  and  its  just  penalty  is  everlasting  pu7iishment—fire 
prepared  for  the  devil  and  his  angels  I  I  want  pardon.  I 
want  some  ground  of  assurance  that  I  can  have  it.  I  / 
want  to  see  how  it  can  come  to  pass  that  sin,  a  thing 
which  tore  angels  out  of  heaven  and  turned  them  into 
devils  in  hell,  can  be  forgiven  unto  me,  and  I  can  be 
restored  to  the  full  favor  of  God.  I  ask  not  angels  to 
undertake  for  me.  I  would  not  trust  them — either  their 
wisdom  or  their  works.  I  can  not  draw  upon  my  own 
powers.  My  mind  is  too  entirely  limited  to  understand 
what  the  violated  government  of  God  must  demand  in 
order  that  a  sinner  can  be  forgiven.  My  feeble  under- 
standing can  not  gauge  the  dimensions  of  offense  in  the 
Divine  mind  against  sin.  Still  less  could  I  trust  any 
created  power  in  the  universe  to  make  any  compensation 
for  me — any  atonement.  Whose  powers  could  hope 
to  grapple  with  the  difliculty  of  appeasing  an  angry 
God?  Who  could  pay  hell?  Who  could  scale  heaven 
and  take  it  by  violence  or  just  demand?     But  God  has 


438  CHRIST  DELIVERED   UP. 

himself  commenced  for  me.  My  salvation  originated 
tliere.  Where  lay  the  offense  of  sin,  deep  in  the  heart 
of  God,  thence  sprang  the  plan  and  the  affection  which 
have  come  to  my  relief.  God  forbid  that  I  should  glory 
save  in  the  cross  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

These  ideas  run  through  the  whole  Bible.  Men  are 
very  much  prone  to  measure  sins  side  by  side  with  one 
another.  God  does  it  very  little.  The  idea  is  hardly  in 
the  Bible.  Sin,  all  sin,  is  such  an  offense  that  the  differ- 
ence between  the  evil  of  one  sin  and  that  of  another,  as 
committed  against  God,  is  scarcely  worthy  of  mention. 
If  I  am  a  sinner^  that  is  enough.  That  fact  cuts  me  off 
from  all  hope — from  any  thing  to  be  derived  from  law 
and  from  all  creatures  in  the  universe.  Hence  you  may 
notice  uniformly  in  the  Bible  these  two  strange  things 
to  an  unconverted  man  :  first,  that  it  never  sends  him  to 
any  of  his  own  powers  for  relief,  but  sends  him  directly 
to  God ;  and  second,  that  it  makes  not  a  particle  of  dif- 
ference between  the  call  it  gives  to  one  sinner  and  the 
call  it  gives  to  another.  Great  sinner  or  little,  he  must 
he  bani  again,  or  not  see  the  hingdom  of  Ood.  Great  sinner 
or  little,  he  must  repent — must  believe  in  Christ ;  he  must 
lift  his  cross  and  follow  him.  Great  sinner  or  little,  if  he 
will  do  this,  he  will  not  fail  of  salvation.  His  help  is  in 
God.  And  one  idea  in  the  ground  of  the  argument  be- 
fore us  is,  that  God  himself  hath  risen  over  our  lost  world, 
and  undertaken  for  our  salvation.  One  sinner  is  as  wel- 
come to  forgiveness  as  another. 

2.  A  second  idea  is,  the  idea  of  the  gift  which  God 
made  to  the  world.     He  spared  not  his  own  Son. 

There  is  a  method  of  conceiving  of  God  which  may 
be  very  natural  to  us,  but  which  is  very  unjust.  An 
unregenerated  sinner  is  very  apt  to  employ  it,  and  so  far 


CHRIST  J)ELIVERED  UP.  439 

as  I  know  does  employ  it,  througli  all  the  stages  of  his 
■Qnregeneracy.  He  employs  it  in  his  deepest  speculations, 
and  what  is  still  worse,  he  will  carry  it  along  with  him  in 
those  moments  of  conscience  and  contemplation — moments 
of  feeling  and  fear — when  he  kneels  before  God  to  depre- 
cate his  anger  and  implore  the  favor  of  his  pity  and  love. 
Even  a  regenerated  sinner,  in  his  times  of  darkness,  and 
amid  the  besettings  of  unbelief,  falls  back  upon  this 
erroneous  and  unhappy  mode  of  conceiving  of  God.  It 
is  a  mode  which  divests  him  of  all  resemblance  to  those 
common  sensibilities  which  constitute  bonds  of  affection- 
ate reliance  and  attachment.  It  is  a  mode  which  despoils 
him  of  the  just  attractions  of  his  character,  and  repre- 
sents him  to  our  cold  and  closed  hearts  as  little  else  than 
infinite  power,  and  infinite  justice,  and  infinite  under- 
standing. Some  of  you  will  apprehend,  very  justly, 
what  we  mean  when  we  tell  you  that  in  all  your  trem- 
bling attempts  at  peace  with  him  you  never  approach 
him — 3^ou  never  pray  to  him  as  a  Being  of  emotion  and 
tenderness — jou  never  expect  to  succeed  with  him  at  all 
on  the  ground  of  the  affections  of  his  own  heart.  You 
think,  you  feel,  you  act,  you  pray,  as  if  God  had  no 
heart,  and  had  no  business  to  have  one.  Now,  there  may 
be,  indeed,  something  in  the  infinity  of  his  perfections 
which,  overawing  the  mind,  tends  to  produce  this  con- 
ception ;  but  there  is  moi^e  to  produce  it  in  the  darknesses, 
distrusts,  and  deceptions  of  sin.  The  recoilings  of  a  con- 
scious guiltiness,  the  unrelentings  of  a  sullen  depravity, 
are  ever  unwilling  to  conceive  of  God  justly.  They 
weave  an  excuse  for  themselves  out  of  their  perverted 
idea  of  the  Deity, — to  them  an  intellectual,  holy, 
authoritative,  but  heartless  Deity,  whom  they  can  neither 
trust  nor  love,  and  who  can  not  love  them.     And  even 


440  CHEIST   DELIVERED    UP. 

a  feeble  and  timid  faith  is  very  slow  to  put  aside  all  this 
evil,  and  clothe  God  with  the  affections  that  belong  to 
him.     God  is  love. 

Now,  to  meet  this  misconception,  the  idea  of  God's  gift 
of  his  Son  stands  so  prominent  in  the  text.  His  love  to 
sinners  prompted  the  gift.  God  would  have  ns  measure 
that  love  by  the  love  he  bore  to  his  Son.  He  loved  his 
Son.  It  would  have  been  a  very  different  thing  for  God 
to  have  given  any  thing  else.  A  sacrificed  world,  a  sac- 
rificed angel,  legions  of  angels  sacrificed  to  the  object 
of  our  redemption,  never  would  have  been  such  a  dem- 
onstration to  correct  our  misconceptions  of  God.  He 
could  have  done  nothing  else  so  to  evince  his  regard  for 
us.  There  was  his  love  for  his  Son,  his  own  and  only 
Son,  his  leloved  Son  (as  the  Gospel  emphatically  expresses 
it),  struggling  in  his  heart  with  the  love  he  bore  to  poor 
sinners.  Nothin'g  else  would  do.  He  must  jdeld  his 
Son,  or  give  up  the  sinners.  The  sinners  must  sink  to 
hell,  or  the  love  God  bore  to  his  Son  must  give  way — 
give  way,  so  far  as  Christ's  humiliation  was  demanded. 
The  love  of  the  sinners  prevailed,  and  this  demonstrates, 
that  over  even  sinners,  God  is  no  mere  cold-hearted  gov- 
ernor, but  just  as  really  exercises  fond  and  tender  affec- 
tions for  them  as  he  exercises  such  affections  for  his  only 
and  beloved  Son.  God  is  love — ^love  toward  sinners — not 
more  King  than  Friend  and  Father. 

3.  The  other  idea  grows  out  of  this.  It  may  be  the 
same  perhaps.  Perhaps  to  give  his  Son  to  the  world 
would  have  accomplished  nothing  even  in  the  way  of  proof, 
and  would  have  been  accounted  nothing  if  he  had  not 
given  him  to  the  humiliation  of  the  manger,  the  law,  the 
temptations  of  the  devil,  the  sorrows  of  life,  the  cruci- 
fixion and  the  tomb.      However  this  mav  be,  there  is  a 


CHRIST  DELIVERED  UP.  441 

distinct  stress  laid  in  the  Gospel  upon  these  wonderful 
and  humiliating  distresses.  God  gave  his  Son  to  all 
these.  There  was  a  two-fold  reason  for  it.  One  part  of 
it  was  found  in  the  government  of  God — the  other  part 
was  found  in  the  nature  of  the  sinner  himself  Sin  had 
broken  and  dishonored  the  government  of  God.  That 
government  was  infinitely  important,  and  could  not  be 
given  up.  God  himself  could  not  spare  it ;  it  was  neces- 
sary to  his  perfections,  and,  therefore,  necessary  to  his 
own  infinite  blessedness  or  felicity.  He  would  no  longer 
be  the  blessed  God  if  his  government  could  be  dashed  into 
pieces  and  sinners  offend  him  with  impunity.  The 
universe  could  not  spare  it.  The  felicities  of  moral 
existence  in  all  worlds,  (greatly  at  the  present  moment, 
and  entirely  in  the  end),  depend  upon  their  conformity  to 
that  moral  government  which  originates  in  God's  nature, 
and  is  appropriate  to  the  nature  of  all  moral  beings.  It 
would  be  a  most  horrible  thing  if  God  would  do  what 
sinners  in  this  house  this  moment  want  him  to  do — 
give  up  his  moral  government  and  fling  out  full  license 
and  impunity  for  sinners  to  do  as  they  please.  Such 
license  would  ruin  them.  Other  worlds  are  spectators 
of  this.  The  same  government  which  sin  hath  violated 
here  extends  there.  Heaven  is  a  holy  place  and  a  happy 
one,  because  law,  law  reigns  there  in  the  efS.cacy  of  a 
loved  obedience — and  hell  is  an  unholy  place  and  a 
miserable  one,  because  law,  law  reigns  there  only  in 
the  just  penalty  it  inflicts  upon  an  imrelenting  disobe- 
dience. There  may  be  other  worlds,  now,  like  this, 
passing  through  a  period  of  probation,  and  cognizant 
of  what  God  is  doing  here.  In  them,  and  in  heaven, 
among  those  mighty  intelligences  denominated,  thrones 
and  principalities  and  powers^  sin  might  have  broken  loose 

19* 


442  CHRIST  DELIVERED   UP. 

to  do  its  mischief,  if  God,  in  redeeming  sinners  here, 
had  not  demonstrated  an  infinite  attachment  to  his  law. 
Hence  the  great  Eedeemer  took  the  law-place  of 
sinners.  He  bared  his  head  to  its  thunders.  He  became 
a  man.  He  was  born  in  poverty  and  danger.  He  lived 
in  toil  and  in  tears.  He  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head. 
The  Devil  tempted  him.  And  thongh  he  was  holy, 
though  he  was  the  beloved  Son  of  God^  the  Father  him- 
self looked  on  and  saw  it  all.  He  took  him  at  his  will- 
ing word.  He  took  him  instead  of  sinners.  He  let 
loose  upon  him  the  demands  of  infinite  justice,  and  now 
every  moral  being  in  the  universe  that  knows  it,  knows 
by  what  wonderful  distresses  of  a  Holy  Being,  the  law 
was  magnified  and  made  honorable.  JSTo  spectator  in  the 
universe  can  look  on  the  cheered  soul  at  our  communion- 
table this  day,  or  look  up  to  those  seats  where  other 
souls,  once  here,  are  now  communing  with  Christ  in 
heaven,  and  thence  derive  any  encouragement  to  sin. 
The  distresses  and  death  of  Christ  hold  up  the  penalty 
of  the  law  before  every  spectator,  and  sustain  the  moral 
government  of  God,  though  sinners  live  and  shall  live 
and  reign  ivith  Christ  in  his  kingdom. 

The  other  part  of  the  reason  for  the  Saviour's  dis- 
tresses, we  said,  was  to  be  found  in  the  nature  of  the 
sinner  himself.  We  can  not  unfold  all  this.  We  have 
not  time.  We  will  only  try  to  explain  what  we  mean. 
And  we  do  mean,  that  the  most  difficult  thing  which  we 
know  any  thing  about  among  all  matters  of  persuasion, 
is  just  to  persuade  a  sinner,  truly  sensible  of  his  sins, 
that  God  cares  much  about  him,  and  is  so  willing  to  for- 
give and  save  him,  that  he  may  instantly  give  up  his 
sins  and  trust  his  soul  in  the  good  hands  of  God.  Tell 
him  this  and  he  will  not  believe  it.     Let  the  Gospel  tell 


CHRIST   DELIVERED   UP.  443 

him  as  though  God  did  heseech  you  hy  us^  we  jpray  you  in 
Clirisis  stead  he  ye  reconciled  to  God ;  and  the  hardened 
sinner  not  only,  but  even  the  distressed  and  tearful 
sinner  will  be  slow  to  believe,  and  slow  to  trust  a  prom- 
ising God.  He  thinks  he  may  not.  Sins  make  him 
afraid.  Sinfulness  fills  his  gloomy  heart  with  dark  sus- 
picions of  God.  He  imagines  somehow  he  is  shut  out. 
One  poor  sinner,  now  I  trust  redeemed,  who  will  be  at 
the  communion-table  this  afternoon,  said  to  me  lately : 
"I  never  knew  till  you  told  me  that  I  might  fly  to 
Christ  noiv^  and  just  as  I  am.  That  amazed  me.  I  was 
such  a  stranger  to  him.  You  told  me  to  give  God  my 
heart  just  as  it  is.  That  surprised  me.  I  thought  you 
did  not  know  me.  Fly  to  Christ  just  as  I  am  ?  To  Christ 
now?  Such  a  stranger  to  him?  Give  God  my  heart 
just  as  it  isf  I  had  never  thought  any  thing  about 
Christ !  He  had  always  been  last  in  my  thoughts,  as  one 
to  resort  to  after  I  was  religious — and  fly  to  him  first  ? 
Fly  to  him  now  ?  Stop  trying,  and  he  do  all  ?  Impossi- 
ble !  You  did  not  understand  me  !  My  powers  seemed 
stunned!  It  was  entirely  new  truth  to  me."  So  she 
thought  then.  But  she  has  learnt  better  now.  She 
comes  to  the  communion-table  now  believing  in  his  wel- 
come, and  not  expecting  any  longer  to  receive  any 
benefit  except  by  him.  Before  she  believed,  she  says: 
''  I  can  not  describe  my  ineffectual  efforts  to  grope  and 
feel  after  Christ  through  thick  darkness.  I  could  not 
find  him.  I  could  only  cry,  Jesus,  Master,  have  mercy 
on  me,  and  ask  him  to  take  my  heart — for  I  could  not 
give  it  to  him — and  make  it  for  me  what  I  could  not 
make  it  myself.  1  never  knew  the  promises  were  for 
we,  until  you  told  me.  I  thought  they  were  not  for  me." 
"Not  for  you?"  said  I.     ^'It  is  the  lie  of  the  Devil! 


444  •      CHRIST   DELIVERED   UP. 

They  are  for  you  if  you  want  them.  It  is  the  very  act 
of  fliith  to  take  them  and  trust  Christ  to  do  all  he  has 
said."  Another  poor  sinner  will  be  away  from  the  com- 
munion-table this  afternoon,  detained  from  the  place  of 
her  heart's  longing,  "  because  (as  she  said)  she  can  not  go 
there  with  such  a  sense  of  her  unworthiness,  and  such  a 
fear  that  she  should  not  walk  worthy  of  her  profession." 
I  said  to  her:  "  Suppose  it  were  all  different  with  you; 
suppose  you  had  not  a  sense  of  your  unworthiness  and  not 
a  fear  of  being  unfaithful — could  you  go  then?"  "Oh 
no!"  was  the  answer,  "that  would  not  be  the  right  feel- 
ing." But  she  comes  not  to  that  bread  and  that  cup. 
You  see  how  difficult  it  is  to  persuade  sinners  to  trust 
in  God  as  one  who  cares  for  their  souls.  Bitter  tears 
will  be  shed  to-day  by  those  whose  unbelieving  hearts, 
or  hearts  of  little  faith,  keep  them  from  the  communion 
of  God. 

Now  Christ  passed  through  all  his  distresses,  if  not /or 
the  sake  of  carrying  the  persuasion  of  faith  to  such  hearts, 
at  least  in  such  a  relationship  to  them  that  his  distresses 
meet  all  the  horrid  gloom  of  their  fears.  Their  doubts 
and  distance  from  God,  and  distrust  and  gloom,  arise 
from  sin.  Sin  is  an  offense  and  has  a  penalty.  When 
Christ  undertook  to  atone  for  it  he  looked  all  its  penalty 
in  the  face.  God  gave  him  up  to  all  his  humiliation, 
agony  and  death.  He  put  him  into  the  sinner's  nature. 
He  pnt  him  into  the  sinner's  place.  It  would  not  have  been  -4, 
enough  to  have  God  love  the  world,  and  to  have  the  Son 
of  God  come  into  it  and  go  out  of  it  in  any  other  mode 
than  as  he  did.  A  sinner's  gloom  not  only,  but  a  sinner's 
just  sense  of  sin  wovild  give  rise  to  a  fear,  an  awful  and 
just  fear,  of  the  penalty  of  the  violated  law,  if  Christ  had 
not  grappled  with  the  penalty  himself     A  sinner's  sense 


CHEIST  DELIVERED   UP.  445 

of  Tinwortliiness  not  onlj,  but  the  spiritual  light  of  his 
just  convictions,  would  have  kept  him  back  from  trusting 
in  God,  would  have  fostered  his  gloom  and  his  unbelief, 
if  he  could  not  have  seen  that  God  loved  him  well 
enough  to  give  his  Son  to  death,  and  that  that  death,  in 
the  presence  of  a  silenced  law  and  a  guilty  soul,  had 
opened  up  the  free  way  for  a  sinner  into  the  favor  of 
God.  Every  body  knows  the  mercifulness  of  the  Deity. 
Every  body  talks  about  it.  The  heathen  do.  They  al- 
ways did.  But  the  mere  naked  idea  of  the  merciful  dis- 
position of  God  neither  persuades  any  body  to  faith  nor 
to  sanctification.  That  idea  does  not  reach  the  secret 
place  of  persuasion  in  a  heathen's  heart,  nor  in  the  heart 
of  our  cold  and  careless  friends  around  us.  It  never 
will.  Hearts  need  to  see  God  in  Christ.  Hearts  need  to 
realize  the  extent  of  his  love  for  sinners  by  all  the  tear- 
ful demonstrations  of  a  satisfied  justice  and  a  reconciled 
God,  which  lie  between  the  manger  of  Bethlehem  and 
the  garden-grave  of  the  man  of  Arimathea.  Let  them 
see  this,  let  them  realize  it,  and  the  most  gloomy  disposi- 
tion in  the  world  will  be  ready  to  exclaim.  Guilt,  do  your 
worst — law,  do  your  worst — justice,  death,  devils,  do 
your  worst !  If  God  he  for  us,  who  can  he  against  us  f 
The  most  distressed  disciple  in  the  world,  yea  the  most 
distrustful  and  unworthy  heart  in  the  world,  will  then 
break  forth  into  singing,  and  mingle  faith  and  love  with 
a  sense  of  un worthiness  in  the  penitential  tenderness  of 


its  song : 


Alas  !  and  did  my  Saviour  bleed, 
And  did  my  Sovereign  die  'i 

Would  lie  devote  that  sacred  head 
For  such  a  worm  as  I  ?" 


It  is  not  a  little  remarkable  that  among  all  the  supports 


446  CHRIST  DELIVERED   UP. 

of  unbelief,  and  all  the  suggestions  of  the  gloomy  inge- 
nuity of  despondency,  we  never  hear  a  whisper  of  doubt 
about  the  merits  of  Christ  or  the  sufficiency  of  his  sacri- 
fice. ISTo,  not  a  whisper.  To  every  heart  Christ  seems 
enough.  Gruilt,  unworthiness,  despair,  can  not  look  on 
him  without  confessing  there  is  a  way  open  to  the  heart 
of  God  and  into  heaven. 

These  are  the  particulars  embraced  in  the  ground  of 
the  argument.  God  so  loved  the  world.  God  spared 
not  his  Son.  God  delivered  him  up  for  us  all,  to  take 
our  place  when  he  made  his  soul  an  offering  for  sin.  Wlien 
ive  were  yet  enemies  Christ  died  for  us. 

And  the  ground  of  the  argument  is  deep  and  broad 
enough  for, 

III.  Its  sweeping  conclusion  :  How  shall  he  not  with 
him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  f  We  can  ask  nothing 
now  which  does  not  sink  into  insignificance  as  we  take 
our  stand  on  Calvary  amid  the  scenes  of  the  crucifixion. 

We  are  sinners.  We  are  great  sinners.  We  need  the 
forgiveness  of  God.  That  forgiveness  is  now  the  freest 
thing  in  the  universe.  God  loves  to  forgive  sinners. 
He  loves  to  save  them.  He  loves  to  put  honor  on  the 
redeeming  blood  of  his  Son.  Eepent  and  trust,  and  the 
benefits  of  that  blood  are  all  your  own. 

We  are  unworthy  sinners.  How  marvelous  has  been 
our  obstinacy  !  Looking  back  to  the  days  of  our  youth, 
and  following  along  in  recollection  the  line  of  our  devi- 
ous life,  what  a  multitude  of  unworthy  acts  and  affec- 
tions come  up  to  our  mind  !  What  counsels  we  slight- 
ed !  What  tender  and  touching  warnings  were  lost  upon 
us  !  What  forgetfulness  of  God  !  What  envy,  selfish- 
ness,   and   ambition.     What   disobedience    to    parents! 


CHRIST  DELIVERED   UP.  447 

Our  father's  love,  our  motlier's  prayer,  cry  out  against 
us !  Looking  into  our  hearts  now,  what  do  we  find 
there  to  recommend  us  to  God  ?  What  worldliness ! 
what  insincerity  and  unbelief!  what  coldness !  Ah ! 
were  it  not  for  the  memorial  of  this  afternoon,  tears 
might  for  ever  dim  our  eyes,  and  grief,  and  shame, 
and  despair,  find  an  eternal  abode  in  our  hearts !  We 
are  unworthy.  Christ  is  infinitely  worth}^  How  shall 
not  God  tuith  him  freely  give  us  all  things  ? 

The  argument  is  perfect.  Its  ground  is  wide  enough 
for  its  conclusion.  God  himself  has  nothing  more  pre- 
cious to  give.  Be  it  the  province  of  your  faith  to  em- 
brace Jesus  Christ  for  your  own,  and  then  all  things  are 
yours.     All  things.     Of  course  we  can  not  name  them  all. 

We  want  many  things.  Evidently  God  is  offended 
with  this  rebellious  Avorld.  The  very  things  he  is  doing 
terrify  us,  and  we  want  some  overbalancing  testimony  to 
meet  the  sadness  of  circumstances.  We  behold  a  world 
full  of  misery — blood  flowing — tears  falling — elements 
seem  to  war  against  us — and  not  far  off  is  the  winding- 
sheet  and  the  deep  solitude  of  the  charnel-house !  No 
matter.  God  has  done  greater  things  than  turning  our 
trials  and  tombs  into  mercies.  Be  it  ours  to  weep  when 
God  will,  and  die  when  God  will.  All  things  shall  work 
together  for  good  to  them  that  love  God.  All  things  are 
yours,  for  ye  are  Clirist's  and  Christ  is  God^s. 

On  the  very  spot  where  a  sinner's  fears  gather,  Jesus- 
Jehovah  seems  to  have  shed  the  light  of  his  own  glory. 
A  sinner's  fears  gather  round  the  bed  of  death.  Blessed 
be  God,  Jesus  Christ  died.  If  he  had  not,  and  I  did 
not  know  he  died  for  me,  I  should  feel  something  want- 
ing to  the  provisions  of  my  redemption.  I  know  better 
now.     Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his 


448  CHEIST  DELIVERED  UP. 

saints.  Jesus  Christ  died ;  and  when  he  bids  me  memo- 
rialize his  death,  he  does  all  that  can  be  done  to  dissipate 
the  fears  of  my  own.  Oh !  if  he  died  for  me,  I  can  afford 
to  die !  He  has  been  there  before  me,  and  if  I  am  his 
he  will  be  there  with  me  ! 

Into  the  world  to  which  we  are  rapidly  moving,  Jesus- 
Jehovah  has  gone  before  us.  If  he  had  not — if  he  had 
not  appeared  at  that  tribunal  where  I  must  stand  shortly, 
and  pacified  it  with  the  sufficiency  of  his  atonement,  and 
extended  his  redeeming  dominion  over  the  world  I  am 
soon  going  to  inhabit,  I  should  feel  that  something  was 
wanting.  JSTothing  is  wanting  now.  The  man  of  Cal- 
vary is  the  Prince  of  Peace  upon  the  throne.  As  I  open 
my  eyes  in  the  immortal  world,  I  shall  see  the  reigning 
Eedeemer  in  his  glory  ;  I  shall  behold  in  the  midst  of  the 
throne  a  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain.  I  shall  behold  the 
foui'  living  creatures,  and  \h.Q  four-and-twenty  elders  falling 
down  before  him^  and  casting  their  crowns  at  his  feet.  I 
shall  hear  the  ascriptions  of  praise  from  lips  once  pol- 
luted as  my  own,  Unto  Him  that  loved  us  and  washed  us 
from  our  sins  in  his  own  blood.  If  I  want  immortality 
and  heaven,  Jesus  Christ  is  enough  for  me  to  trust  in  :  I 
want  no  more. 

My  brethren,  memorialize  his  death  this  afternoon  in 
the  fullness  of  faith  and  love,  and  God  shall  freely  give 
you  all  things  in  this  world,  and  the  world  to  which  you 
go.  You  will  soon  be  there.  God  grant  that  this  ordi- 
nance may  aid  to  prepare  you.  It  will,  if  you  lift  the 
cup  in  humble  penitence  and  faith,  and  say:  He  that 
spared  not  his  oiun  Son^  but  freely  delivered  him  up  for  us 
all,  how  shall  he  not  ivith  him  also  freely  give  us  all  things  f 
God  help  you  to  do  so.     Aifnen. 


Il^jaiciitg  of  |'ait|. 

In  wliom,  though  now  ye  see  him  not,  yet  believing,  ye  rejoice  -with  joy 
unspeakable  and  full  of  glory. — 1  Peter,  i.  8. 

npHE  Apostle  was  here  speaking  of  Jesus  Christ.  It 
-^  was  he  in  whom  this  believing  was  exercised;  it 
was  he  of  whom  the  Apostle  says,  though  now  ye  see  him 
not 

In  this  passage  the  Apostle  was  addressing  believers, 
Christians,  the  true  followers  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
He  mentions  a  part  of  their  Christian  experience.  He 
did  not  hesitate  to  mention  it.  He  knew  very  well  what 
it  was.  It  is  not  probable  that  any  one  had  told  him : 
indeed,  the  contrary  appears  quite  evident.  As  we  learn 
from  the  first  verse  of  the  chapter,  he  was  writing  to  the 
saints,  the  strangers  scattered  ahroad  throughout  Pontus^ 
Qalatia^  Cappadocia,  Asia  and  Bythinia ;  and  it  seems 
quite  evident  that  he  could  not  have  learned,  by  any 
human  testimony,  the  experiences  of  believers  spread 
over  such  extensive  regions  of  country.  Yet  he  does  not 
hesitate  to  describe  their  experience.  How  did  he  know 
it?  How  could  he  tell  how  they  felt — what  they 
thought,  or  hoped,  or  feared  ?  How  could  he  venture  to 
describe  hearts  which  had  never  been  described  to  him, 
and  venture  all  his  reputation  and  influence  on  the  accu- 
racy of  that  description  ?  I  do  not  believe  that  we  have 
any  occasion  to  resort  to  the  idea  of  inspiration  for  an 


450  REJOICING  OF  FAITH. 

answer  to  these  questions.  Inspired,  unquestionably  lie 
was ;  but  lie  knew  all  that  lie  affirms  about  tlie  experience 
of  these  Christians  on  quite  another  principle.  He  knew 
it  because  he  knew  his  own.  He  knew  it  because  he 
knew  the  powerful  workings  of  Divine  grace  in  human 
hearts.  He  knew  it  just  as  any  believer  of  much  faith 
and  experience  would  know  now  in  what  manner  any 
other  believer,  who  was  a  stranger  to  him,  would  be 
affected  under  particular  circumstances  into  which  his 
faith  had  conducted  him.  There  is  scarcely  a  believer  in 
the  world  who  would  not  venture  to  speak  just  as  Peter 
speaks  here.  If  any  one  of  you  should  hear  of  a  man,  or 
a  multitude  of  men,  who,  on  account  of  their  attachment 
to  true  religion,  had  been  expelled  from  their  native 
country,  been  despoiled  of  their  goods,  and  been  flung 
into  other  straits  and  difficulties,  and  yet  would  not  yield 
up  their  religion,  but  stood  firm  in  the  midst  of  all  these 
trials — there  is  not  one  of  you  who  would  hesitate  to 
affirm,  that  is  a  happy  man,  those  are  a  happy  people. 
You  would  feel  confident  that  the  God  they  had  honored 
had  not  deserted  them ;  and  though  they  might  be  now 
for  a  season  in  heaviness  through  manifold  temptations^  yet 
that  they  are  happy  and  rejoicing  Christians.  You  would 
begin  to  doubt  your  own  Christianity,  if  you  could  hesi- 
tate to  say  so  of  them.  On  the  same  principle  Peter 
speaks.  He  knew  what  faith  was,  and  what  it  would  do. 
He  knew  what  God  was,  and  what  he  would  do.  He 
knew  what  a  tried  heart  was,  and  how  under  the  tearful 
and  heavy  trials  of  its  fidelity,  its  strength  would  grow, 
as  its  burdens  grew,  and  the  inward  light  grow  brighter, 
as  outward  skies  grew  more  dark  and  terrible.  Hence 
Peter  (just  on  this  ground  probably)  does  not  hesitate 
to  describe  the  experience  of  these  strangers,  affirming  of 


REJOICING  OF  FAITH.  451 

tTiem  that  tTiej  rejoice  with  joy  unspeakable  avd  full  of 
glory. 

These  strangers^  as  he  calls  them,  were  in  difficulty. 
Their  faith  had  brought  them  into  difficulty.  They  were 
scattered  abroad  over  strange  and  wild  countries.  Because 
they  would  not  deny  Christ,  the  enemies  of  Christ  ex- 
pelled them  from  their  homes.  It  was  a  sore  trial.  No 
man  who  has  never  been  an  exile  from  his  home  and 
country  must  even  undertake  to  describe  it.  He  can  not. 
There  is  an  anguish  in  severing  the  heart-strings  which 
bind  us  to  our  native  land  unlike  any  other  anguish. 
Other  lands  may  receive  us,  richer  soil  be  under  our  feet, 
brighter  skies  be  over  our  heads,  and  blander  breezes  fan 
our  cheek ;  yet,  after  all,  the  exile  will  have  a  sense  of 
dreariness  and  desolation,  his  heart  will  sink  within  him, 
and  gladly  would  he  turn  back  even  to  his  native  rock. 
All  this  you  can  faintly  apprehend,  but  yet  none  but  the 
experienced  can  know  the  touching  sorrows  of  an  exile's 
heart.  Such  sorrow  formed  a  part  of  these  believers' 
trials.  In  the  sixth  verse  our  Apostle  tenderly  adverts 
to  it:  Now  for  a  season^  says  he,  as  if  he  would  encourage 
them  it  should  not  last  long,  ye  are  in  heaviness  through 
manifold  temptations.  And  then  still  further  to  soothe  a- 
sorrow  which  nothing  could  eradicate,  he  names  to  them 
the  reason  for  this  afflictive  dispensation :  That  the  trial  of 
your  faith,  being  much  more  precious  than  gold  which  perishes^ 
though  it  be  tried  ivith  fire^  might  be  found  unto  praise,  and 
honor,  and  glory,  at  the  appearing  of  Jesus  Christ,  ivhom^ 
having  not  seen,  ye  love;  and  in  whom,  though  now  ye  see  him 
not,  yet  believing,  ye  rejoice  ivith  joy  unspeakable  and  full  of 
glory. 

These  believers  were  happy.  They  were  very  happy. 
Notwithstanding  all  their  troublous  and  terrible  circum- 


452  REJOICING  OF  FAITH. 

stances,  they  were  very  liappy.  They  rejoiced.  Their  joy 
was  one  of  peculiar  kind ;  but  we  should  be  very  bad  ex- 
positors of  the  Scriptures'  preachings  if,  since  the  Apostle 
says  it  was  unspeakable,  we  should  attempt  to  measure 
its  dimensions,  or  give  a  full  delineation  of  its  particulars 
or  its  character.  It  can  not  be  delineated.  It  is  beyond 
words.  It  can  be  known  only  by  experience,  and  such 
experience,  too,  as,  I  am  afraid,  lies  beyond  the  most  of 
us.  If  there  were  not  in  our  religion  some  passages  of 
brightness  and  blessedness,  which  no  words  can  unfold, 
some  extension  beyond  language,  some  power  and  en- 
joyment beyond  description ;  the  facts  of  our  religion 
would  not  comport  with  its  theory.  According  to  its 
theory,-  it  is  supernatural.  It  claims  to  be  of  God  himself. 
It  maintains  that  God  commences  it  by  his  own  regene- 
rating power  in  the  heart,  when  he  answers  a  sinner's 
prayers ;  that  God  carries  it  on  by  the  Holy  Spirit  in  the 
souls  of  beUevers,  when  he  works  in  them  that  which  is 
well  pleasing  in  his  sight;  and  it  maintains  that  even  here, 
in  this  infancy  of  a  Christian's  existence,  there  is  the 
commencement  at  least  of  the  same  qualities  and  joys 
which  shall  constitute  the  full  of  the  immortal  spirit's 
bliss  all  along  the  ceaseless  roll  of  interminable  ages  in 
the  world  to  come.  Such  is  its  theory  ;  and  if  its  expe- 
ience  were  all  describable,  its  theory  and  experience 
would  not  accord.  Hence  the  Apostle  j  astly  calls  a  part 
of  this  experience  unspeakable.  It  can  not  be  described. 
Words  can  not  describe  it.  They  may  go  a  little  way, 
but  it  will  go  beyond  them.  Eeligion  will  have  both  an 
elevation  and  a  minuteness  which  no  languaoje  can  tell. 
It  ought  to  have.  It  reaches  into  eternity.  It  consti- 
tutes the  everlasting  portion  of  the  soul.  It  fits  for 
heaven.     And  after  an  inspired  Apostle,  even,  has  ex- 


REJOICING  OF  FAITH.  453 

hausted  the  power  of  words,  and  readied  the  end  of 
every  possible  delineation,  he  is  compelled  to  leave  the 
portraiture  unfinished,  to  receive  by  experiment  what  it 
could  not  receive  by  description — as  it  is  unspeakable  and 
full  of  glory. 

This  ineffable  excellency  of  our  religion  is  a  very 
common  idea  in  the  Scriptures.  And  it  is  well  worthy 
of  our  most  profound  consideration  what  particular  thing 
it  is  that  the  Scriptures  so  commonly  mention  as  being 
unspeakable^  Iji^g  beyond  the  power  of  description. 
You  need  not  go  bej^ond  the  text  for  an  example.  It  is 
Christian  j/by  that  is  unspeakable.  This  is  just  like  the 
rest  of  the  Scriptures.  They  do  not  often  represent  any 
thing  of  personal  religion  as  indescribable,  except  that 
which  belongs  to  the  religious  affections.  They  explain, 
almost  to  the  full,  religious  principles,  religious  practices, 
religious  doctrines,  religious  aims,  religious  conscience; 
but  when  they  come  to  the  matter  of  the  religious  affec- 
tions, they  go  but  a  little  way.  They  soon  lose  them- 
selves in  the  unfathomable  depths  of  the  religious  sensi- 
bilities— in  the  ineffable  exercises  of  a  believer's  heart. 
If  there  were  no  other  proof  than  this  of  the  verity  of 
experimental  religion,  of  the  reality  of  a  neiv  heart  and  a 
new  spirit^  as  constituting  a  part,  and  a  vital  part  of  Bible 
godliness,  this  alone  would  be  enough.  Language  labors 
and  fails  in  the  detailing  of  the  religious  sentiments.  K 
I  may  speak  so,  it  describes  them  only  on  the  outside. 
It  can  not  unfold  the  whole  interior.  There  is  something 
there  which  beggars  description.  If  there  were  not,,  we 
should  doubt  the  reality  of  a  new  heart  and  a  new  spirit, 
and  the  reality  of  a  believer's  direct  communion  with  God. 

The  text  tells  us  the  mode,  or  cause,  or  origin,  of  this 
felicity  which  it  names.     The  spring  and  ground  of  it  all 


454:  REJOICING  OF  FAITH. 

is  faith — just  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ :  in  whom  he- 
lieving^  ye  rejoice.  If  there  had  been  no  believing^  there 
would  have  been  no  rejoicing.  Faith  excites  the  rehg- 
ious  affections.  Faith  in  the  heart  will  produce  love  in 
the  heart.  To  lean  upon  God  is  the  very  way  to  learn 
to  love  him.  Faith  tuorketh  by  love.  I  can  not  now  enter 
into  that  subject.  I  only  wish  you  to  remark  the  fact, 
how  the  text  attributes  the  joy  of  these  Christians  to  the 
faith  of  these  Christians. 

And  now  I  lay  down  this  principle,  to  which  I  ask 
your  extended  attention,  namely,  that  faith,  just  faith  in 
our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  is  sufficient  to  make  believers 
happy ;  that  the  exercises  of  faith  are  enough,  under  all 
troublous  circumstances,  to  guide  them  to  an  unspeakable 
but  real  felicity. 

Allow  me  to  enumerate  a  few  ideas  to  illustrate  and 
substantiate  this. 

1.  I  allege  the  experience  of  ancient  believers.  I 
affirm,  that  as  certainly  as  their  faith  lasted,  their  felicity 
lasted.  You  can  find  no  exception.  There  never  was 
an  exception.  They  were  often  troubled.  Storms  beat 
upon  them.  The  furnace  burnt  upon  them.  Enemies 
triumphed  over  them.  They  endured  all  you  can  im- 
agine the  Apostle  to  mean  by  his  manifold  temptations. 
But  though  they  were  in  heaviness^  they  were  happy. 
They  were  always  happy,  if  faith  did  not  give  way. 
Job  was  an  example.  Job  says  amid  his  sorrows,  /  knoiu 
that  my  Redeemer  liveth.  He  seems  to  have  known  as 
much  redemption  as  you  or  I  do  ;  and  his  experience  is 
a  withering  rebuke  upon  the  silly  notion  of  some  of  our 
theological  book-makers,  that  the  Old  Testament  saints 
knew  little  of  the  doctrine  of  immortality:  I  know  that 
my   Redeemer  liveth ;   and  though   after  my   skin   ivorms 


EEJOICING   OF   FAITH.  455 

destroy  this  body,  yet  in  my  flesh  shall  I  see  Ood,  whom  I 
shall  see  for  myself  and  mine  eyes  shall  behold.  Job  had 
faith,  and  Job  was  a  happy  man.  Asaph  was  an  exam- 
ple. Asaph  says :  It  is  good  for  me  to  draw  near  to  Ood:  1 
am  continually  with  thee.  This  was  faith.  TJiou  shalt 
guide  me  with  thy  counsel  and  afterward  receive  me  to 
glory.  Asaph  had  faith,  and  Asaph  was  a  happy  man. 
David  was  an  example.  David  says :  As  for  me,  I  will 
behold  thy  face  in  righteousness;  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I 
awake  with  thy  likeness.  David  had  faith^  and  David  was 
a  happy  man.  Paul  was  an  example.  He  had  trials 
enough,  surely,  to  have  crushed  him,  if  he  could  have 
been  crushed.  But  he  says :  None  of  these  things  move  me. 
I  am  persuaded,  that  neither  death  nor  life,  nor  angels,  nor 
principalities  nor  powers,  nor  things  present  nor  things  to 
come,  nor  hight  nor  depth,  nor  any  other  creature,  shall  be 
able  to  separate  us  from  the  love  of  Christ.  What  faith  1 
and  what  remarkable  felicity  !  Stephen  was  an  example. 
Led  forth  to  the  spot  of  his  execution  by  an  infuriated 
rabble,  he  kneels  in  the  midst  of  the  shower  of  stones 
that  his  murderers  hurled  upon  him  (what  a  place  for 
calm  prayer  !  what  a  strange  place  !  and  what  a  strange 
prayer!):  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge.  Happy 
man !  The  happiest  man  on  the  ground  !  Unagitated, 
forgiving,  calm,  hopeful,  he  died  with  that  prayer  on 
his  lips  which  shall  make  your  own  death  happy,  if 
you  have  faith  to  offer  it :  Lord  Jesus  receive  my  spirit — 
and  he  fell  asleep.  He  had  strong  faith  :  he  was  a  happy 
man. 

2.  We  allege  the  experience  of  modern  believers.  It 
may  not,  indeed,  farnish  such  lucid  examples,  but  it  sus- 
tains our  position,  that  faith  and  felicity  are  invariably 
linked  together — and   that  weak  faith  and  woeful  in- 


456  REJOICING  OF  FAITH. 

felicity  are  so  far  the  attendants  of  eacli  otlier,  tliat  aside 
from  weak  faith  (or  entire  unbelief)  there  is  no  such 
woeful  infelicity  in  the  world.  I  give  you  a  challenge  : 
I  challenge  you  to  produce  a  single  instance  of  the  failure 
of  faith  to  do  all  we  have  claimed  for  it.  You  can  not 
produce  one.  You  may  find  some  unhappy  Christians — 
a  great  many,  for  aught  I  know.  I  suppose  you  can. 
But  when,  why,  are  they  unhappy  ?  Never  are  they 
unhappy,  only  when  faith  fails,  or  is  feeble  or  staggered. 
As  ministers,  we  become  acquainted  with  a  vast  amount 
of  misery.  I  would  not  harrow  up  your  feelings,  by 
any  attempted  detail  of  it.  It  is  ineffably  varied.  We 
see  men  crushed  under  the  disasters  of  life — strong  men 
trembling  like  an  aspen  leaf,  when  their  reverses  are  such 
that  they  know  not  where  they  shall  get  bread  for  their 
wives  and  children.  Such  men  have  come  to  us  by 
night  (no  uncommon  thing)  to  tell  a  tale  which  they 
would  not  tell  you  in  your  counting-houses.  We  thank 
them  for  it.  Such  a  visit  puts  an  honor  upon  us :  no, 
not  on  us,  but  on  the  Christianity  in  whose  service  we 
minister.  We  see  persons  desolate — the  last  friend 
dead — not  a  tried  heart  left  on  earth  to  soothe  their  sor- 
rows by  the  sympathy  of  its  own.  We  see  people  in 
pain — sick  and  dying  people.  But  we  nevei-  see  an  in- 
stance of  the  failure  of  faith  to  do  all  we  have  claimed  for 
it.  It  can^  it  does  make  men  happy.  Faith  never  fails  in 
its  efficacy,  only  when  it  fails  in  itself  If  it  is  not  feeble, 
or  staggered,  or  interrupted,  it  never  fails.  Let  me  make 
a  confession  to  you,  if  it  is  to  my  own  shame.  In  the 
early  part  of  my  ministry,  I  used  to  aim  very  often  to 
soothe  the  afflicted  and  encourage  the  darkened  and  de- 
pressed by  a  reference  to  natural  principles,  such  as  the 
courses  of  this  world,  the  common  lot  of  life,  the  useless- 


REJOICING   OF   FAITH.  457 

ness  of  repining,  the  mercies  still  left,  or  some  sucli  thing. 
I  have  done  with  all  that.  I  do  it  no  more.  It  never 
did  any  good.  It  only  dammed  up  the  currents  of  grief 
for  a  little  while,  to  become  the  more  deep  and  dreadful, 
when  they  burst  away  the  frail  barrier.  It  never  carried 
healing  to  the  grief-spot  of  the  heart.  It  only  smothered 
the  fires  of  trial,  to  burn  the  more  fiercely  and  more  deeply 
too,  when,  in  a  little  while,  the  heart  should  find  they 
were  only  smothered.  I  hope  I  have  done  with  all  that. 
I  have  learnt  its  inefficacy.  If  I  can  not  lead  to  the 
exercises  of  faith,  I  can  not  do  a  smitten  heart  any  per- 
manent good.  If  I  can  make  an  inactive  faith  active — 
or  a  weak  faith  strong — or  a  trembling  faith  confirmed — 
or  bring  a  wandering  faith  back,  then  I  can  make  an 
unhappy  man  a  happy  one.  His  tears  may  flow  ;  but 
they  have  lost  their  bitterness — they  will  not  burn  and 
blister  as  they  did.  His  heart  may  not  cease  to  bleed ; 
but  it  loves  the  bleeding — all  that  is  left  after  the  balm 
of  Gilead  has  been  applied  to  the  gash.  I  only  aim, 
therefore,  in  some  way,  to  bring  in  faith,  and  let  its 
exercises  do  the  comforting.  I  only  stand  by  and 
look  on. 

And  now,  if  you  blame  thispractice,  I  summon  to  my  de- 
fense your  own  observation  and  your  own  experience. 

What  have  you  observed?  What  did  a  miserable 
man  or  a  depressed  one  ever  tell  you?  Did  he  ever  tell 
you  that  his  faith  was  strong  and  his  heart  uncomforted  ? 
No  such  thing.  Quite  the  contrary.  Tears  of  misery 
have  flowed  when  faith  has  faltered.  They  have  turned 
into  tears  of  joy,  when  faith  conducted  to  God. 

What  have  you  experienced  ?  Some  of  you  have  had 
trials,  and  deep  ones.  You  would  have  been  unworthy 
of  the  name  of  human^  much  more  of  the  name  of  Ghris- 

20 


458  REJOICING  OF  FAITH. 

tian^  if  they  had  7iot  been  sad  ones  to  yon.  Bnt  I  chal- 
lenge the  darkest  day  you  ever  saw,  the  saddest  chapter 
of  yonr  memory,  the  severest  recollection  you  can  call 
up,  if  you  were  not  a  comforted  man,  or  a  happy  and 
comforted  woman,  just  as  certainly  as  your  faith  held  on 
to  its  God.  I  challenge  all  your  memory  to  say,  if  your 
faith  had  not  faltered,  or  did  not  lie  inactive  in  all  those 
seasons  when  you  were  the  most  wretched  and  uncom- 
forted.  If  you  are  a  believer,  and  have  ever  been  tried 
sorely,  you  Jinow  it  is  so. 

Then,  let  no  man  blame  us  when  we  would  employ 
this  only  antidote  to  human  sorrow.  Let  no  husband 
stand  by  and  be  dissatisfied  when,  at  the  sick-bed  of  his 
dying  wife,  we  aim  to  waken  a  faith  which  shall  comfort 
her.  Let  no  friend  be  afraid  we  shall  injure  the  sick 
man  when  we  try  to  infuse  into  his  unbelieving  heart  a 
little  of  that  faith  which  alone  can  either  fit  him  to  die  in 
peace  or  bear  his  pains  with  a  composure  which  shall 
aid  his  recovery.  Away  with  such  folly  !  These  fears 
of  injuring  the  sick  by  the  only  means  which  really  can 
compose  and  comfort  them,  are  all  the  foolish  fears  of 
ignorance,  and  worldliness,  and  unbelief.  It  is  univer- 
sally true  that  faith  tends  to  make  men  happy ;  and  that, 
if  it  is  only  in  just  exercise,  it  will  bring  felicity  along 
with  it  every  where. 

8.  Faith  tends  to  make  men  happy  because  it  has  good 
ground  for  solacing  every  misery.  So  full  of  trial  is  this 
miserable  world  that  to  be  free  from  distressful  appre- 
hension is  no  small  good  of  itself.  When  faith  can  only 
turn  over  the  w^orld  upon  the  hand  that  really  wields  it, 
and  leave  it  there  as  a  firm  faith  does,  how  many  dark 
days  turn  into  bright  ones ;  how  many  dreadful  appre- 
hensions, how  many  corroding  cares,  how  many  agitating 


REJOICING  OF  FAITH.  459 

perplexities,  just  melt  away  from  the  heart  and  leave  it 
peace.  The  future  is  God's.  He  may  take  care  of  to- 
morrow. Enough  for  us  to  pray  :  Give  us  this  day  our 
daily  bread.  I  loill  both  lay  me  down  and  sleep^  for  thou 
only  mahest  me  to  divell  in  safety.  Oh,  what  an  inestima- 
ble privilege,  that  in  this  changing  and  dark  world,  not 
knowing  what  a  day  shall  bring  forth,  not  knowing 
whether  the  efforts  and  industry  of  our  youth  shall  sup- 
ply us  with  a  competence  in  old  age,  and  not  knowing 
whether  we  shall  live  to  see  old  age  at  all,  and  not  know- 
ing at  what  moment  some  gathered  but  unseen  storm  may 
burst  upon  us — what  an  inestimable  privilege  is  faith, 
that  we  may  commit  into  the  hands  of  an  offering  and 
faithful  God,  all  those  dangers,  and  difl&culties,  and  feared 
disasters  which  we  have  not  skill  to  shun  or  courage  to 
meet.  This  is  the  privilege  of  faith.  It  solaces  care,  and 
fear,  and  anxiety.  It  puts  this  uncertain  world  into 
hands  that  can  manage  it.  It  makes  the  world  God's, 
and  God  a  father.  And  if  our  fears,  as  well  they  may, 
grow  still  more  troublesome  as  we  think  of  another 
world,  it  does  the  same  thing  with  that  which  it  has 
already  done  with  this — it  leaves  it  with  a  trusted  God. 
Here,  then,  thou  child  of  uncertainty  and  anguish,  sink 
thy  woes !  Here  dry  thy  tears !  Here  dismiss  thy 
gloomy  apprehensions  ?  Trust  that  God  who  hath  made 
provision  for  both  thy  worlds,  and  half  thy  burden 
shall  instantly  drop  from  thy  heart.     Because, 

4.  Faith  furnishes  us  an  infinite  resource. 

No  man  can  tell  all  his  wants.  If  he  could  tell  the 
present,  he  could  not  tell  the  future.  Every  man  is  a 
sinner,  and  sooner  or  later  must  meet  a  just  God.  Every 
man  has  an  immortal  soul,  and  knows  not  how  soon  its 
eternal  destiny  will  be  fixed.      We  are  not  afraid  to 


460  REJOICING  OF   FAITH. 

affirm  that  a  very  large  portion  of  our  unliappiness,  at 
least  the  unliappiness  of  every  reflecting  mind,  comes 
from  a  sense  of  our  insufficiency  to  attain  the  materials 
for  our  happiness.  Nor  are  we  afraid  to  affirm  that  the 
felicity  of  every  reflecting  mind  must  be  extremely 
limited,  unless  it  has  hope  in  the  infinite  power  and 
good-will  of  God  himself.  Our  weakness,  our  ignorance, 
our  sins,  the  insufficiency  of  our  attainments  to  make  us 
happy,  and  the  no  less  insufficiency  of  our  dearest  friends 
to  do  for  us  what  we  need,  are  things  which  fill  our 
thoughts  with  no  small  anguish.  But  faith  leads  us  to 
God  as  an  infinite  and  certain  resource.  Just  mark  some 
of  the  particulars  which  faith  includes,  as  it  comes  to  the 
covenant  offer  of  God  on  the  ground  of  the  great  atone^ 
ment. 

(1)  It  is  God  himself  who  hath  done  it.  He  has  pro- 
vided for  me,  a  helpless  and  unworthy  sinner. 

(2)  He  has  done  it  under  the  promptings  of  his  own 
kindness  and  love. 

(3)  He  has  done  it  by  the  sacrifice  of  a  Yictim  sufficient 
for  all  that  I  can  need  as  a  sinner,  and  such  a  sacrifice  as 
perfectly  demonstrates  to  me — -first^  that  God  has  an  in- 
finite good- will  toward  me,  and  second^  that  he  will  not 
fail  to  give  me  any  thing  else  which  I  may  need,  since 
he  hath  given  his  Son. 

(4)  He  has  already  accepted  the  sin-ofiering.  The  tomb 
of  Jesus  hath  been  opened  and  emptied,  and  he  has  gone 
back  into  heaven,  having  accomplished  eternal  redemption 
for  us.  What  grounds  for  faith  I  What  invitations  to 
it !  As  surely  as  I  believe  all  this,  I  can  not  but  believe 
that  infinite  resources  are  provided  for  me.  I  can  not 
ever  want.  It  is  impossible.  If  Christ  is  mine,  all  is 
mine.     So  every  true  believer  knows  and  feels  when  his 


EEJOICING   OF  FAITH.  461 

faitli  is  in  full  exercise.     He  must  be  a  happy  man,  for 
his  resources  are  inexhaustible.     Hence, 

5.  Faith  makes  men  happy  because  it  furnishes  aid 
for  our  most  trying  difficulties.  It  overcomes  the  world, 
for  example — the  world  whether  frowning  to  frighten  or 
flattering  to  seduce  us  from  our  fidelity.  The  world 
must  undermine  our  faith  before  it  can  dauut  us ;  it  must 
undermine  our  faith  before  it  can  clothe  this  world  with 
such  seductive  charms  as  to  draw  us  into  its  embraces. 
Oh!  how  many  Christians  have  been  made  unhappy, 
have  pierced  themselves  through  with  many  sorrows^  because 
their  faith  has  been  so  little  that  they  loved  the  world  so 
well  1  If  they  had  had  faith  enough  to  refuse  to  be  con- 
formed to  it,  to  renounce  its  riches,  to  despise  its  smiles, 
to  stem  the  torrent  of  its  fashions,  they  would  not  have 
been  compelled  to  look  back  upon  their  life  and  find  it 
half  barren  of  any  evidences  that  they  had  loved  and 
served  God.  What  a  canker  their  gold  becomes !  what 
a  curse  their  honor !  what  a  torment  their  worldly  friend- 
ships, when  they  have  about  done  with  life  and  are  look- 
ing after  evidences  that  they  are  going  to  inherit  life 
everlasting  !  Faith,  if  they  had  lived  by  it,  would  have 
made  them  happy.  It  would  have  held  them  above  the 
world.  It  would  have  taken  away  the  world's  power  to 
draw  them  within  its  fashion,  and  fan  into  flame  the 
Ijassions  that  war  against  the  soul.  It  would  have  spread 
over  the  whole  map  of  their  life  bright  evidences  that 
they  had  walked  with  God,  and  are  soon  to  inherit  the 
pilgrim's  seat  and  sing  the  pilgrim's  song  when  his  toil  is 
over. 

6.  Faith  tends  to  felicity,  because  it  hightens  the  bliss 
of  every  fit  temporal  enjoyment.  It  adds  the  delights 
of  sentiment  to  the  delights  of  sense,  and  a  higher  senti- 


462  REJOICING  OF  FAITH. 

ment  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  most  exquisite  taste.  This 
might  be  illustrated  in  a  thousand  particulars.  Take 
one  only.  There  are  such  things  as  tokens^  and  they  are 
some  of  the  heart's  fond  treasures.  In  themselves  they 
are  useless  things,  yet  they  are  most  useful.  They  are 
valueless,  yet  most  valuable — yea,  valuable  because  they 
are  valueless.  Being  valueless,  they  are  evincive  of  an 
affection  beyond  price.  They  are  tokens,  and  have  in 
themselves  nothing  to  tempt  to  forgetfulness  of  their 
token  character.  They  go  beyond  sense,  and  utility,  and 
all  calculation,  and  address  that  species  of  sentiment 
which  diffuses  its  felicity  in  the  inside  of  the  heart.  The 
little  ring  placed  on  your  finger  by  your  dying  mother 
has  a  token  value  to  you  which  the  arithmetic  of  gold 
could  not  measure.  Now,  a  man  of  faith  finds  the  world 
full  of  such  tokens,  and  his  faith  enhances  the  blissful- 
ness  of  all  his  tastes.  The  summer  rose  that  makes  us 
happy  with  its  blushes  needs  to  be  seen  with  an  eye  of 
faith,  or  more  than  half  its  beauty  and  our  blessedness  in 
admiring  it  is  lost.  Faith  makes  it  a  token,  a  token  of 
God' — a  token  of  tenderness  that  is  felt  toward  us  in  an- 
other world — a  token  of  that  paradise  whose  roses  shall 
never  wither,  and  where  no  rude  blasts  shall  spoil  the 
pencilings  of  God's  fingers.  The  man  who  has  thLs 
faith  has  more  than  sight  amid  the  beauties  of  his  gar- 
den. He  has  sentiment.  He  has  taste  elevated  and 
tokens  cheering  leading  away  to  that  garden  of  eternal 
bloom. 

Just  so  of  all  else  here.  The  felicity  keeps  pace  with 
the  faith.  It  is  not  that  the  man  has  been  fed — that  is 
not  his  joy — but  that  God  has  fed  him;  not  that  he 
has  been  defended^  but  that  God  has  defended  him  ;  not 
that  he  has  picked  up  along  his  path  many  a  fragrant 


REJOICING  OF  FAITH.  463 

blossom  to  cheer  him,  hke  a  half  tasteless  and  quite 
heartless  Deist,  who  sees  no  soul  in  a  floweret — ^but  that 
One  who  cares  for  him  has  placed  them  there,  has  scat- 
tered them  along  his  path  on  purpose  to  have  him  find 
them  and  be  happy.  Faith  will  find  them,  and  faith  will 
make  him  a  happy  man.     Especiall}^, 

7.  In  one  word  more,  because  faith  never  stops  short 
of  heavenly-mindedness,  if  it  is  really  exercised  at  all. 

How  can  that  soul  be  uahappy  w^hose  treasures  are 
laid  up  in  heaven?  whose  tastes  are  themselves  heavenly? 
whose  delight  is  to  rise  on  the  wings  of  contemplation, 
or  on  the  wings  of  prayer,  and,  holding  communion  with 
God,  look  over  all  the  delights  of  paradise  soon  to  be  its 
(Mn  ?  This  is  our  privilege  as  Christians.  If  we  helieve^ 
we  shall  see  the  glory  of  God.  The  last  tear  will  soon  be 
dried,  the  last  struggle  soon  be  over.  Safe  housed  in  the 
eternal  city,  we  shall  sin,  and  suffer,  and  die  no  more. 
Blessed  anticipation  !  Glorious  prospect !  Return  unto 
thy  rest^  0  my  soul,  for  the  Lord  hath  dealt  bountifully  with 
thee. 

My  brethren,  if  we  are  not  happy  Christians,  it  is  not 
the  fault  of  our  circumstances,  but  the  feebleness  of  our 
faith  which  makes  us  so.  Be  it  our  prayer ;  Lord  increase 
our  faith. 


C(]e  f^amb  ^lain  IEoo|i|eir  in  lealjw. 

And  they  sung  a  new  song,  saying,  Thou  art  worthy  to  open  the  book,  and 
to  loose  the  seals  thereof :  for  thou  wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed  us  to 
God  by  thy  blood,  out  of  every  kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people,  and 
nation. — Eevelation,  v.  9. 

THE  book  of  Eevelation  abounds  in  tbe  most  amazing 
and  stupendous  imagery ;  and  wbat  was  designed 
to  be  taugbt  to  us  by  tbe  imagery  herein  employed,  is 
often  not  a  little  obscure.  And  it  would  not,  therefore, 
be  safe  for  us  to  adopt  any  great  and  important  princi- 
ples of  religion  from  these  descriptions  alone.  We 
might  understand  the  figures  employed  here ;  and  the 
unusual  nature  of  them  and  the  stupendous  strangeness, 
might  very  naturally  lead  us  to  draw  upon  an  excited 
imagination  for  the  sense  of  them,  instead  of  resorting  to 
the  severe  carefulness  of  sober  reason.  But  when  we 
af&x  to  the  imagery  of  this  Book  no  meaning  or  senti- 
ments of  religion  which  are  not  taught  to  us  in  unfigura- 
tive  language  in  many  other  parts  of  the  Scriptures,  we 
are  in  no  danger  of  being  led  into  any  error  by  the 
splendor  or  strangeness  of  the  imagery  employed. 

And  when  we  find  precisely  the  same  doctrines  and 
sentiments  which  are  taught  in  other  parts  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, carried  out  here  in  the  visions  and  imagery  which 
come  before  us  in  the  stupendous  dress  of  another  world, 
and  find  that  these  unusual  descriptions  are  employed 


THE  LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED   IN  HEAVEN.       465 

for  no  purpose  of  representing  new  things,  but  tliat  they 
simply  carry  out  into  the  eternal  world  and  the  field  of 
wonder  what  we  have  already  been  led  to  know  in  this 
world,  and  by  the  language  of  simplicity,  we  have  an 
additional  confirmation  of  our  sentiments ;  we  perceive 
then,  that  when  the  curtain  which  hides  another  world  is 
lifted,  heaven  has  the  same  ideas  as  earth,  and  Christ 
there  has  his  exaltation  on  the  same  ground  as  his  people 
have  ascribed  it  to  him  here.  This  may  have  been  one 
of  the  reasons  for  the  singular  composition  of  this  book. 

In  the  chapter  which  precedes  the  one  before  us,  John 
was  favored  with  a  magnificent  and  amazing  vision.  / 
looked^  and  hehold  a  door  was  opened  in  heaven^  and  the  first 
voice  which  I  heard  teas  as  it  were  of  a  trumpet  talking  with 
me,  which  said^  Come  up  hither ^  and  I  ivill  show  thee  things 
which  must  he  hereafter.  Immediately  John  obeys  the 
voice,  and  passing  through,  the  open  door  into  heaven,  he 
beholds  the  throne  of  God,  and  one  sat  on  the  throne.  A 
rainbow  is  round  about  it.  There  are  four-and-twenty 
elders  clothed  in  white  raiment^  and  they  had  on  their 
heads  crowns  of  gold.  There  were  lightnings  and  thunder- 
ings  and  voices — aiid  four  beasts  fall  of  eyes  before  and  be- 
hind^ giving  glory  and  honor  and  thanks  to  him  that  sitteth 
on  the  throne.  And,  uniting  in  this  act  of  worship,  the 
four-and-twenty  elders  fall  down  before  him  that  sitteth  on  the 
throne,  and  ivorship  him  that  liveth  for  ever  and  ever^  and 
cast  their  crowns  before  the  throne^  saying  Thou  art  worthy,  0 
Lord,  to  receive  glory  and  honor  and  power^  for  thou  hast  cre- 
ated all  things^  and  for  thy  pleasure  they  are  and  were  created. 

This  is  the  worship  of  heaven.  It  is  most  comprehen- 
sive. It  includes  the  idea  of  the  great  design  of  the 
existence  of  all  things.  And  it  was  appropriate  to  him. 
He  was  now  to  receive  a  prophet's  lessons.     He  had  been 


466      THE   LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED   IN  HEAVEN. 

called  into  heaven  to  be  shown  things  luhich  should  he 
hereafter.  The  Spirit  was  going  to  instruct  him  in  those 
mysteries  of  Divine  Providence  which  lay  in  the  future, 
which  regarded  the  destinies  of  the  Church  and  the 
world,  and  reached  down  through  unknown  ages  to  the 
final  consummation  of  all  things.  What  he  was  to  know 
was  contained  in  a  sealed  book,  sealed  with  seven  seals^ 
and  held  in  the  right  hand  of  him  that  sat  upon  the  throne. 
The  book  contained  the  grand  mysteries  of  God — the 
explanation  of  the  reasons  why  God  made  his  creatures, 
and  how  the  glory  and  honor  he  was  receiving  were 
finally  to  accrue  to  him  at  the  final  winding  up  of  the 
agitated  scenes  of  this  world.  Who  shall  read  such  a 
book?  A  challenge  is  given  in  heaven — given  by  a 
strong  angel  to  the  whole  universe,  to  furnish  a  being  who 
is  worthy  to  open  the  hook  and  unloose  the  seals  thereof! 
And  no  man  in  heaven  nor  in  earth,  neither  under  the  earthy 
luas  able  to  open  the  hook,  neither  to  look  thereon.  Aside 
from  Jesus  Christ  and  his  redeeming  work,  the  whole 
universe  of  God  is  a  dark  and  unfathomable  mystery. 
And  this  dark  and  dying  world  especially  furnishes  such 
mystery  and  strangeness,  that  no  eyes  can  look  thereon 
and  understand  God  at  all,  or  understand  his  dispensa- 
tions at  all,  aside  from  Christ  acting  in  his  great  work 
of  redemption.  Every  infidel  that  breathes  may  very 
well  unite  his  tears  with  those  of  John  :  And  I  wept  much 
hecause  no  man  was  found  ivorthy  to  open  and  to  read  the 
hook.  Anxious  as  we  may  well  be  to  have  a  just  under- 
standing of  the  things  which  we  behold ;  aside  from 
Christ,  God,  the  existence  of  creatures,  earth,  death,  time, 
the  use  of  the  world,  and  the  reason  for  its  end,  will  all. 
be  utterly  and  painfully  inexplicable.  As  John  was 
overwhelmed  with  the  painful  emotion— no  man  to  read 


THE    LAMB   SLAIN   WORSHIPED   IN  HEAVEN.        467 

the  hook  or  even  look  thereon — one  of  the  elders  saith 
unto  him :  Weep  not ;  behold  the  lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah,  the 
root  of  David  hath  prevailed  to  open  the  booh  and  to  loose 
the  seals  thereof 

This  was  Jesus  Christ.  He  was  to  open  the  hook.  He 
was  promised  to  be  a  descendant  of  David,  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah.  That  was  the  regal  tribe — the  tribe  of  kings  and 
conquerors,  whose  preeminence  was  designated  b  j  the  name 
of  lion^  which  was  attached  to  it  from  the  time  prob- 
ably of  the  death-prophecy  of  the  old  j)atriarch,  Jacob. 
Judah^  said  the  dying  patriarch,  is  a  Uon^s  whelp  ;  from  the 
prey^  my  son,  thou  art  gone  up  :  lie  stoopjed  down,  he  couched 
as  an  old  lion ;  who  shall  rouse  him  up.  Judah  was  the 
head  tribe  in  war ;  and  its  kings,  like  David,  were  types 
of  an  incomparably  greater  King,  who  should  vanquish 
Satan  and  all  the  powers  of  darkness,  should  save  his 
people,  and  reign  on  the  throne  of  Heaven  for  ever,  after 
the  last  earthly  throne  was  crumbled  into  pieces. 

John  was  waiting  to  see  who  should  ope?^  the  book  and 
reveal  the  grand  mystery  of  God.  And  I  beheld,  and  lo  1 
— it  would  seem  by  this  expression  that  John  was  very 
much  surprised.  He  was  expecting  the  appearance  of 
some  amazing  personage,  clothed  with  overwhelming 
majesty,  to  take  the  book  out  of  the  hand  of  God  on  the 
throne.  He  had  been  oppressed  with  the  idea  of  the 
sealed  book,  and  had  ivepjt  much,  because,  neither  in  heaven, 
nor  earth,  nor  under  the  earth,  one  could  be  found  to  open 
it.  He  had  been  told  that  the  Lion  of  the  tribe  of  Judah 
should  accomplish  this  ;  and  while  he  looked  to  see  some 
majestic  and  amazing  appearance,  he  was  surprised  at 
what  appeared.  What  did  he  see  ?  And  I  beheld,  and 
h!  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  and  of  the  four  beasts,  and  in 
the  midst  of  the  elders  stood — a  LAMB  as  it  had  been  SLAIN, 


468       THE   LAMB    SLAIN   WORSHIPED   IN   HEAVEN. 

and  HE  came  and  took  the  hook  out  of  the  hand  of  him  that 
sat  upon  the  throne.  Strange  manifestation  !  No  wonder 
that  Jolin  was  amazed  !  A  lamb,  an  emblem  of  weak- 
ness, of  mildness,  innocence,  and  suffering — a  lamb 
with  marks  of  recent  slaughter  upon  him — one  that  had 
been  slain,  but  is  still  alive — such  a  being  comes  up 
to  be  the  first  object  of  wonder  amid  the  grandeur  and 
worship  of  heaven!  He  takes  the  book  out  of  the  right 
hand,  of  Him  that  sat  upon  the  throne  ;  and  when  he  had 
taken  the  hook^  the  four  beasts  and  four-and-twenty  elders  fell 
down  before  the  LAMB,  having  every  one  of , them  harps  and 
golden  vials  full  of  odors^  ivhich  are  the  prayers  of  saints  ; 
and  they  sung  a  new  song,  saying,  Thou  are  worthy  to  take 
the  book  and  open  the  seals  thereof  for  thou  wast  SLAIN  and 
hast  redeemed  us  to  Ood  by  thy  blood.  Christ  unfolds  the 
wonders  of  God.  The  death  and  the  redemption  of 
Christ  are  here  presented  as  the  grand  matter  which  ex- 
plains the  universe,  and  which  prompts  that  act  of  adora- 
tion in  heaven  in  which  all  the  creatures  of  God  are 
employed. 

This  is  the  explanation  of  the  text.  With  this  the 
heart  of  the  true  Christian  accords.  The  more  he  knows 
of  Christ  in  his  amazing  work  of  redemption,  the  more 
he  is  amazed  at  the  adorable  wonders  of  his  grace. 
Christ — Christ  slain,  explains  the  universe,  explains 
God,  explains  death,  explains  heaven,  and  satisfies  the 
heart.  This  opens  the  seven-sealed  book.  This  mani- 
festation of  redeeming  love  animates  the  worship  of 
heaven  :  And  I  heard  the  voice  of  many  angels  round  about 
the  throne,  and  the  beasts  and  the  elders  ;  and  the  number  of 
them  teas  ten  thousand  times  teyi  thousand  and  thousands  of 
thousands,  saying  with  a  hud  voice^  Woi^thy  is  the  LAMB  THAT 
WAS  SLAIN  to  receive  power,  and  riches,  and  luisdom,  and 


THE  LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED  IN  HEAVEN.       469 

strength^  and  honor^  and  glory^  and  blessing.  And  every 
creature  which  is  in  heaven,  and  on  earthy  and  under  the 
earthy  and  such  that  are  in  the  sea,  and  all  that  are  in  them^ 
heard  I,  saying,  Blessing,  and  honor,  and  glory ^  and  power, 
he  unto  him  thatsitteth  upon  the  throne  and  unto  the  Lamb  for 
ever  and  ever.  This  is  the  explanation  of  the  text.  We 
have,  therefore,  this  great  truth  or  doctrine  : 

The  death  of  Christ  for  the  redemption  of  sinners,  con- 
stitutes the  distinguishing  peculiarity  of  his  work,  and 
the  high  ground  for  his  adoration. 

Let  us  name  to  you  six  ideas  about  this  doctrine : 

1.  Like  the  chapter  before  us,  the  Scriptures  every 
where  teach  us  to  regard  the  death  of  Christ  in  a  peculiar 
manner. 

While  the  Scriptures  have  recorded  the  history  of  his 
birth,  of  his  life,  of  his  sufferings,  and  conversation,  they 
have  manifestly  done  this  only  in  explanation  of  his 
character  and  to  give  us  a  just  view  of  his  amazing  con- 
descension ;  and  all  these  things  they  concentrate  to  one 
point,  as  they  gather  them,  all  around  the  crowning  mat- 
ter of  the  whole — his  amazing  death !  Manifestly, 
Christ's  business  on  earth  was  to  die ;  not  to  live,  but  to 
die.  He  became  incarnate  that  he  might  be  able  to  die. 
The  sacrament  of  the  Lord's  Supper,  which  you  hope  to 
celebrate  on  next  Lord's  day,  is  certainly  the  most  sol- 
emn and  affecting  of  all  the  ordinances  of  your  religion ; 
and  it  is  just  a  memorial  of  his  death.  The  Bible  has 
not  taught  us  to  memorialize  his  birth,  or  his  birth- day, 
his  miracles,  or  any  act  of  his  life.  Not  a  word  of  all 
that.  The  Scriptures  would  not  make  any  appointment 
which  could  have  any  tendency  to  distract  our  minds, 
or  to  divide  our  hearts  between  the  example  of  his  life 
and  the  atonement  of  his  crucifixion.     In  that  one  thing, 


470       THE   LAMB   SLAIN  WORSHIPED   IN  HEAVEN". 

in  his  crucifixion,  centers  all  that  engages  the  faith  of  the 
sinner  to  be  saved  by  his  grace. 

No  careful  and  candid  reader  of  the  Bible  (as  it  seems 
to  me)  can  doubt  for  a  moment  that  the  sacred  Scriptures 
attach  to  the  death  of  Christ  a  peculiar  and  supreme  im- 
portance. They  do  never  speak  of  it  as  merely  one  of  the 
things  to  command  our  admiration,  nor  do  they  speak  of 
it  merely  as  that  thing  which  carries  out  and  crowns  his 
character.  Uniformly  and  every  where  they  speak  of  it 
as  THE  thing  of  his  Divine  mission,  to  which  all  other 
things  were  merely  incidental  and  subordinate.  When 
Paul  was  about  to  die,  he  could  say :  I  have  fought  a  good 
fight,  I  haiJe  finished  my  course.  His  work  was  done. 
His  business  on  this  side  the  shores  of  heaven  was  to  be 
done  in  the  acts  of  his  living  ;  and  he  had  done  it.  He 
was  now  ready  to  he  offered  up.  But  Christ  could  say  no 
such  thing.  Quite  the  contrary.  His  work  on  this  side 
the  shores  of  heaven  was  to  be  done  in  his  dying ;  and 
hence,  just  on  the  eve  of  his  crucifixion,  and  knowing 
well  that  he  was  soon  to  die,  and  willing  to  die,  he  says  : 
(quite  unlike  his  great  Apostle,)  /  have  a  hajptism  to  he 
haptized  with,  and  how  am  I  straitened  till  it  he  accomplished. 
Amid  his  perfect  and  sinless  services,  as  he  did  the  will 
of  his  Father  in  his  life-time,  not  a  word  escaped  him  to 
manifest  that  he  had  done,  or  even  touched,  the  great 
work  which  he  came  to  accomplish.  Amid  his  unshaken 
contemplations  of  the  glory  which  he  was  about  to 
have  in  heaven  with  the  Father,  and  which  he  had  had 
with  him  hefore  the  foundation  of  the  world,  not  a  word 
escapes  him  to  indicate  that  he  had  purchased  it  yet. 
The  thing  to  be  done  is  always  hefore  him — not  behind. 
And  not  until  he  had  been  through  the  agonies  of  the 
garden,  the  mock  trials  of  the  court,  and  the  mock  adu- 


THE  LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED   IN  HEAVEN.        471 

lation  wliicli  gave  him  a  reed  for  a  scepter  and  thorns  for 
a  crown — not  iintil  the  sneers  and  jibes  of  his  murderers 
had  ceased,  and  his  life-blood  was  pouring  from  his 
opened  veins,  and  vanquished  death  had  found  his  dart 
shivered  into  pieces  as  it  struck  him — not  until  then 
could  he  exclaim :  It  is  finished.  Dying  finished  it. 
Dying  was  the  burden  of  his  work.  A  Lamb  as  it  had 
been  slain  is  the  object  of  worship  in  heaven.     Hence, 

2.  The  manner  in  which  he  met  death  was  peculiar. 
He  met  it  as  no  living  man  could  have  expected  ;  as  no 
righteous  man  that  we  know  of  ever  did.  The  grace  of 
the  Divine  promises  extends  to  that  hour.  Blessed  are  the 
dead  that  die  in  the  Lord.  TJie  righteous  hath  hope  in  his 
death.  Precious  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord  is  the  death  of  his 
saints.  How,  then,  would  you  expect  a  good  man  to 
die  ?  How  would  you  expect  Christ  to  die,  who  lived 
without  sin,  if  a  life  of  holiness  was  his  main  work 
here,  and  if  he  had  no  more  of  difficulty  to  encounter 
with  the  king  of  terrors  than  falls  to  the  lot  of  the  right- 
eous? He  had  more.  And  hence  he  quailed  at  the 
prospect.  He  did  not  give  back — but  he  quailed.  He 
was  willing  to  die.  He  would  not  accept  deliverance. 
A  word  would  have  brought  more  than  twelve  legions 
of  angels  from  heaven.  But,  no,  he  would  not  give 
back :  The  cup  which  my  Father  giveth  me,  shall  1  not  drink 
it  f  says  he.  And  this  very  fact  (his  willingness  to  die) 
makes  his  agitation  of  soul  the  more  wonderful,  as  he 
trembled  at  the  prospect.  Willing  to  die,  ready,  he  still 
trembles,  siveats  great  drops  of  blood  falling  down  to  the 
ground;  in  an  agony  he  prays  :  Father,  if  it  he  possible,  let 
this  cup  p)ass  from  me.  Certainly  this  was  very  peculiar 
for  a  righteous  man.  Stephen  did  not  die  so.  Kneeling 
calmly  down  amid  the  showers  of  stones  his  murderers 


472       THE   LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED   IN  HEAVEN. 

hurled  at  him,  he  died  without  a  groan,  his  soul  cleaving 
the  vault  of  heaven  on  the  wing  of  that  prayer :  Lord 
Jesus,  receive  my  spirit  Manifestly,  the  death  of  Christ 
was  very  peculiar. 

8.  Hence  the  sacred  Scriptures  uniformly  speak  of  this 
death  in  a  manner  totally  different  from  that  in  which 
they  mention  the  death  of  and  other  being. 

It  was  nothing  extraordinary  that  a  good  man  should 
die — or  that  the  character  and  course  of  a  good  man 
should  bring  death  upon  him,  he  becoming  a  martyr  to 
the  truth,  and  sealing  the  message  of  his  living  lips  with 
the  unchanged  affirmations  of  his  dying  lips.  Isaiah 
had  died  so,  and  others  of  the  prophets  before  Christ ; 
and  Stephen,  and  James,  and  others  of  his  disciples,  died 
so  after  him.  It  has  been  common.  This  is  one  of  the 
trials  which  may  sometimes  be  expected.  The  track  of 
the  Church  through  the  pathway  of  centuries  was  marked 
by  the  blood  and  the  unburied  bones  of  the  martyrs. 
Jesus  Christ  himself  foretold  all  this,  and  the  mention  of 
such  dying  is  a  very  familiar  matter  in  the  New  Testament. 

But  the  Scriptures  never  mention  any  of  these  deaths 
as  they  mention  Christ's.  They  are  never  spoken  of 
as  a  propitiation  for  sin — as  a  sacrifice — as  procuring  re- 
demption by  blood.  In  this  respect  there  is  a  plain 
and  indisputable  contrast  between  the  language  of  the 
Bible  about  the  death  of  Christ  and  its  language  about 
the  death  of  others.  Isaiah,  Abel,  Zecharias,  Stephen, 
Peter,  James,  Paul, — not  one  of  the  whole  army  is 
spoken  of  as  making  atonement  for  sin,  or  any  procure- 
ment of  eternal  life.  But,  on  the  contrary,  the  death 
of  Christ  is  uniformly  mentioned,  as  having  such  an 
intention  and  such  a  result.  He  was  wounded  for  our 
transgressions  ;  he  was  bruised  for  our  iniquities  ;  the  chastise- 


THE  LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED  IN  HEAVEN.        473 

ment  of  our  peace  was  upon  him ;  hy  his  stripes  ive  are 
healed.  He  hare  our  sins  in  his  oiun  body  upon  the  tree. 
We  are  said  to  be  bought  with  his  blood — to  have  redemption 
through  his  bloody  even  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  The  Lord 
hath  laid  on  him  the  iniquity  of  us  all.  He  tasted  death  for 
every  man.  ISTot  a  single  syllable  like  this  in  all  the 
Bible  is  ever  applied  to  the  death  of  any  other  being 
that  ever  died.  So  that  there  is  a  perfect  and  entire  con- 
trast and  contrariety  between  the  Bible  mention  of  Christ's 
death  and  its  mention  of  that  of  the  martys.  Paul  has 
himself  employed  this  idea :  Was  Paul  crucified  for  you  f 
Hence, 

4.  On  the  ground  of  this  death,  the  Scriptures  found 
the  argument  for  even  the  common  morality  of  life. 
They  do  found  it  here.  They  never  expect  any  other 
foundation  to  avail.  The  death  of  Christ  was  an  infinite 
exemplification  of  love ;  and  the  spirit  of  Gospel  moral- 
ity is  distinguished  from  that  of  a  cold-hearted  philo- 
sophical morality  by  having  its  foundation  in  love :  re- 
member, not  in  mere  utility,  but  in  love.  Hence,  the 
Bible  expects  of  every  believer  that  he  shall  have  his 
baptism  of  spirit  and  the  animation  of  his  life  by  the 
contemplation  of  the  death  of  Christ  and  drinking  in  the 
sublime  spirit  of  his  crucifixion.  If,  for  example — what 
shall  I  say  ?  no  matter  what — the  argument  is  extended 
in  the  Bible  over  the  whole  field  of  an  earthly  morality — 
you  may  take  example  in  any  thing — if  husbands  are  to 
love  their  wives  (and  scarcely  any  other  earthly  duty  can 
be  more  important),  if  they  are  to  love  their  wives  they 
are  to  take  their  measure  from  Christ  in  his  death — love 
your  wives  even  as  Christ  loved  the  Church  and  gave  himself 
for  it.  If — no  matter  what,  the  argument  goes  every 
where — if  Christians  are  to  love  one  another^   they   are 


474       THE   LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED   IN  HEAVEN. 

called  on  to  do  it  even  as  Christ  hath  loved  us,  and  given 
himself  for  lis,  an  offering  and  a  sweet  savor  unto  God.  In 
tliat  dying  love  is  centered  the  perfection  of  all  tlie 
spirit  that  a  Christian  needs.  Herein  is  love,  not  that  ive 
loved  Mm  (even  a  philosophical  morality  may  lead  to  the 
laying  down  of  one's  life  for  his  friends),  hut  that  he  loved 
us  and  gave  himself  for  us  when  ive  were  yet  enemies.  And 
then,  beyond  this,  if,  as  creatures  of  God  and  bound  to 
an  immortal  destination,  we  owe  duties  to  our  Maker 
and  Judge,  they  take  their  spirit  from  the  same  bloody 
and  blessed  fountain.  With  exultation  and  rapture  in- 
describable Paul  exclaims  :  The  love  of  Christ  constraineth 
us,  because  we  thus  judge,  that  if  one  died  for  all,  then  were  all 
dead,  and  that  he  died  for  all  that  they  which  live  should  live 
henceforth,  not  unto  themselves,  hnt  unto  him  who  died  for 
them  and  rose  again.  And  when  Paul  would  embody  in 
one  short  sentence  every  thing  he  wanted  for  his  con- 
verts whom  he  loved,  he  prays  that  they  may  know  the 
love  of  Christ  which  jpasseth  knowledge.  This  principle  is 
universal.  It  extends  every  where.  The  evidences  are 
thrown  around  us  in  all  the  Bible  fields,  that  the  Divine 
writers  would  have  ns  take  the  spirit  of  onr  conduct 
just  from  the  dying  of  Christ.     Hence, 

5.  The  Holy  Scriptures  uniformly  expect  to  affect  ns 
most,  and  to  furnish  us  the  highest  lessons  of  holiness, 
by  affecting  our  hearts  with  the  contemplation  of  the 
death  of  Christ.  They  want  faith  to  fix  there :  Christ 
loved  me  and  gave  himself  a  ransom.  They  expect  to  fur- 
nish an  antidote  to  the  love  of  sin  by  leading  us  to  faith  in 
him  who  died  to  expiate  it.  They  never  expect  to  affect 
our  hearts  much  by  chapters  of  statistics  on  sin's  evil,  like 
some  cold  and  calculating  political  economy.  Their 
philosophy  lies  deeper ;  and  let  the  would-be  reformers 


THE  LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED   IN  HEAVEN.        475 

of  the  world  know  it  lies  infinitely  beyond  them.  It 
expects  to  make  hearts  most  happy,  and  souls  most 
heavenly ;  life  most  pure,  and  death  most  peaceful ;  sin- 
ners most  like  God,  and  most  fit  to  meet  him — ^just  by 
influences  drawn  from  the  crucifixion  and  felt  at  the  foot 
of  the  cross.     Because, 

6.  This  death  of  Christ  is  an  incomparable  manifesta- 
tion of  Divine  love,  and  hence  is  calculated  to  have  an 
unequaled  moral  influence.  It  stands  solitary — on  a 
platform  of  its  own — ^heaven-high  above  all  other  Divine 
manifestations.  All  else  must  yield  to  it.  The  rain 
from  heaven  and  fruitful  seasons,  which  witness  for  God, 
the  sun  in  his  pavilion  of  glory,  the  stars  in  their  fields 
of  blue,  are  infinitely  beneath  it.  These,  all  these,  tell  us 
no  story  of  an  infinite  and  sacrificing  condescension  of 
love  to  enemies.  Angels,  before  they  saw  this,  had  seen 
offices  of  love,  and  some  of  them  had  been  sent  even  to 
earth  on  its  high  mission  as  Diinistering  spirits  to  minister 
for  those  who  shall  he  heirs  of  salvation.  But  never  before 
had  they  seen  its  sacrifices  and  the  extent  of  its  conde- 
scension. In  no  other  instance  did  love  ever  "stoop  so 
low,  or  endure  so  much."  In  no  other  instance  did  it 
ever  operate  so  freely,  or  reach  so  far,  Never  was  hu- 
miliation so  deep,  or  agony  so  dreadful.  He  who  thought 
it  not  robbery  to  he  equal  with  God  took  upon  him  the  form 
of  a  servant,  and  hecame  obedient  unto  death,  even  the  death 
of  the  cross.  Kothing  demanded  it  of  him.  He  was  under 
no  obligation  to  do  it.  Not  a  tongue  in  the  universe 
could  have  blamed  him  if  he  had  not  done  it.  The  vic- 
tims of  sin  from  earth  might  have  gone  down  in  the  track 
of  the  fallen  angels,  and  Divine  holiness  and  justice 
would  have  been  for  ever  satisfied  and  untarnished,  as 
the  last  sinner  died  and  went  to  his  doom.     But  the  love 


476       THE   LAMB  SLAIN  WORSHIPED  IN  HEAVEN. 

of  God  would  not  have  it  so.  Jesus  Christ  would  not 
have  it  so.  Though  he  saw  betwixt  himself  and  the  sal- 
vation of  sinners  which  he  contemplated,  an  arrayed 
army  of  horrors — a  tearful  life  in  frail  human  nature — 
buffeting,  and  scourging,  and  spitting — an  agony  of  soul 
— a  battle  with  the  prince  of  darkness,  and  that,  too, 
■when  forsaJcen  of  the  Father — ^yea,  when  the  Father  him- 
self should  lift  the  sword  to  smite  the  head  of  his  Son, 
still  he  said,  Lof  I  come  to  do  thy  will.  The  Yictim  was 
ready,  and  new  adoration  awoke  in  heaven  ! 

This  dying  love  of  Christ  was  a  new  spectacle  to  the 
universe — it  was  a  new  manifestation  of  the  heart  of  its 
God.  Christ  only,  and  Christ  as  a  Lamh  that  was  slain, 
could  open  the  seven- sealed  book  and  arouse  the  adoring 
rapture  of  an  astonished  heaven.  Before  this  time  it  was 
known  what  power  could  do— a  universe  was  held  up  on 
the  fingers  of  God.  Before  this  time  it  was  known  what 
justice  could  do — as  sinning  angels  were  reserved  under 
chains  of  darkness.  But  it  was  not  known  what  LOVE 
could  do.  Christ  told  that  story,  and  gave  a  new  view 
of  Jehovah  to  an  adoring  universe.  He  who  was  most 
majestic  became  most  mean — ^the  Ancient  of  days  became 
the  babe  of  a  span  long — the  owner  of  all  heaven  be- 
came a  poor  man  that  had  not  where  to  lay  his  head — he 
who  was  most  glorious  and  happy  became  a  man  of  sor- 
rows and  acquainted  with  grief  and  coming  off  victorious 
over  shame  and  poverty,  over  cursing  and  ignominy,  the 
bitterness  of  death  and  battle  with  devils,  he  comes  up 
into  heaven  with  the  blood  of  his  own  slaughter  upon 
him,  the  triumphant  demonstration  that  God  is  love. 
This  is  a  new  aspect  of  the  heart  of  God.  Its  beatings 
were  never  so  seen  before,  and  never  will  be  any  where 


THE  LAMB   SLAIN  WORSHIPED  IN  HEAVEN.        477 

else.     No  wonder  that  this  display  of  sacrificing  love  for 
sinners  is  influential : 

"From  the  highest  throne  of  glory, 
To  the  cross  of  deepest  woe ; 
All  to  ransom  guilty  captives, 
Flow,  my  praise,  for  ever  flow." 

Divine  love  perfectly  triumphs,  and  Divine  justice  is 
perfectly  satisfied.  The  majesty  and  the  pity  of  God 
meet.  God  is  great  by  being  good.  He  has  shown  the 
utmost  hatred  of  sin,  and  his  inflexible  attachment  to  his 
holy  law,  in  the  very  same  transaction  where  he  shows 
his  mercy  and  unparalleled  love.  The  Lion  of  the  tribe  of 
Judah  maintains  his  honor  and  his  dominion  over  a 
universe  of  hearts,  by  becoming  the  Lamb  that  teas  slain. 
Grace  reigns,  God  is  glorified,  and  sinners  live.  TJiou  art 
worthy  to  take  the  booh  and  to  open  the  seals  thereof  for  thou 
wast  SLAIN  and  hast  redeemed  us  by  thy  blood. 

With  this  adoration  in  your  hearts,  prepare  to  take 
into  your  hands  the  cup  of  blessing  on  the  next  Lord's 
day.  Christ,  the  wonder  of  heaven,  is  the  Kedeemer  of 
sinners. 

The  conclusions  from  this  subject  may  perhaps  aid 
your  adoration.     We  name  a  few  ideas. 

1.  This  is  the  adoration  of  heaven.  Jesus  Christ  has 
appeared  there,  a  Lamb  as  it  had  been  slain,  and  in  that 
character  receives  for  ever  the  admiration  and  worship 
of  the  heavenly  inhabitants.  Hearts  on  earth  ought  to 
assort  with  hearts  in  heaven  over  every  contemplation 
of  the  atoning  sacrifice  of  the  Son  of  God. 

2.  As  love  constitutes  the  mode  in  which  God  seeks 
to  save  us,  and  at  the  same  time  constitutes  the  highest 
manifestation  of  his  unfathomable  perfections,  the  relig- 
ion, whereby  we  hope  to  be  at  peace  with  him,  must  very 


478       THE  LAMB  SLAIN  WOKSHIPED  IK  HEAVEN. 

much  consist  in  the  same  kind  of  affection.  It  is  Grod's 
love  which  soHcits  jour  hearts.  Lay  aside  jour  servile 
fear.  You  maj  even  forget  God's  majestj  if  jou  can, 
all  of  it  which  does  not  come  to  jour  mind  as  his  majestj 
appears  in  heaven,  clothed  in  the  unequaled  grandeur 
of  a  bloodj  redemption.  Open  jour  heart  to  God,  just 
where  God  opens  his  heart  to  jou.  Consent  to  love  him 
as  his  child.  Love  loaded  the  cross  with  its  Yictim : 
let  love  weep  and  adore  and  trust  and  sing  at  the  foot  of 
it.  Such  a  Saviour,  the  wonder  of  heaven,  ought  to 
attract  all  hearts ;  and  such  a  Saviour,  such  a  wonder, 
ought  to  be  enough  to  convince  the  guiltiest  sinner  on 
earth  that  grace  can  save  him.     Hence, 

3.  There  is  no  occasion  for  that  gloomj  despondencj 
which  sometimes  feels  that  it  may  not  confide  in  Christ, 
because  it  has  nothing  but  a  heart  to  offer.  Christ  wants 
nothing  but  jour  heart.  It  is  love  Divine  which  has 
tempered  and  whetted  and  polished  the  sword  of  the 
Spirit.  Let  it  penetrate  jour  heart.  Be  won  bj  the  love 
of  Christ.  You  may  trust  in  his  sacrifice,  and  that  trust, 
whatever  jour  dark  mind  and  trembling  conscience  maj 
whisper,  shall  do  more  than  anj  thing  else  jou  can 
render,  to  honor  him  on  the  verj  point  where  his  glorj 
is  greatest.  And  more :  Jesus  Christ  seeks  jour  heart, 
even  more  solicitouslj  than  he  seeks  jour  conscience 
even.  Do  jou  not  see  that  he  would  conquer  jou  bj 
his  love,  alone  stronger  than  death  ?  Be  heart  to  heart 
with  Christ.  It  is  the  first  thing  he  asks,  and  if  not  all^ 
it  is  the  life-spring  of  all  the  rest.     We  are  saved  bj  faith. 

4.  You  need  not  fear  to  worship  Christ.  He  is 
worshiped  in  heaven.  And  not  onlj  so,  but  his  bloodj 
work  as  our  Kedeemer  is  the  crowning  glorj  of  God, 
seen  when  the  seven-sealed  book  is  opened  and  the  new 


THE   LAMB  SLAIN  WOKSHIPED  IN  HEAVEN.      479 

song  in  heaven  begins — never  to  end.  Adore,  where 
angels  adore.  Bow  in  supreme  homage  before  the  Lamb, 
in  company  with  the  four-and-twenty  elders  who  are 
round  about  the  throne. 

5.  Finally,  what  nnequaled  humility  and  penitence 
become  us  at  the  communion-table  !  Not  our  own,  but 
his — not  there  by  merit,  but  by  love  and  mercy — brands 
plucked  from  the  burning — some  of  us  taken  recently 
out  of  the  whirl  of  the  world — and  all  of  us,  not  in  hell 
as  we  have  deserved,  but  now  heirs  of  heaven  :  abundant 
are  the  reasons  we  have  to  exclaim  with  adoring  humility 
and  love,  Tkou  wast  slain,  and  hast  redeemed  us  to  God  by 
thy  blood. 


^ 


